by Nick Gisburne
A dirge of desperation fills the church
A plea repeated many times before
In misery, the mourners turn to search
For what their souls have struggled to ignore
Their nemesis, a sacrilege in smoke
Has faded into subtle shadows now
But since the night his burning corpse awoke
He haunts them with the burden of a vow
For years, forever, they must suffer this
A murdered boy’s uncompromising curse
At dawn, each day, the village may dismiss
His dark, avenging spirit with a verse
But should they fail to venerate his name
Another child will join him in the flame
