Some of us,
Channel spirits –
Of old,
Dead.
Demigods.
Warping reality with willpower.
Hungering at immortality.
Need beyond needs.
Wanting knowledge like addiction.
Yet.
Handicapped by mortality.
We reach beyond time,
In echoes of ourselves.
Leaving damaged fragments of self.
‘Ere we listen,
To fragmented skeletons of past.
Take them,
Play dancing macabre!
Revive them as ghosts,
At fingertips.
Marionette Men.
Other folk.
Insanity,
In logic.
Madness in perfect lacking comprehension.
Let us dance –
Dead gods.
We need new stories!
The skalds are waiting.
Dancing Macabre.
