Returning to the place I belong
There's something about this time of year,
something that calls me back.
I never understand what's so alluring,
the place is cloaked in black.
The tears of generations have fallen upon the grounds.
And though no one else can hear it,
I alone can sense the sounds.
The screams no longer haunt me,
they now come as a calm,
like the whispers of the children,
as I sing them their sleepsongs.
The older ones, dressed in all white, shake my hand with gentle care.
It doesn't even faze me that they aren't really even there.
A raven stands guard at the gate,
he's been there from the start.
His beady eyes and piercing glare warm my tender heart.
And as I walk down the winding path,
I feel the cloud surround me.
From now until the end of year,
it will continue to hang around me.
The spirits all, from inside their tombs, have begun to appear now.
It is the time, to my great relief, for I to take my last vow.
And on my knees, I disappear, into their shadowy place.
For it be here I will remain till the next time I return to grace.