The Banquet

Music played within the Old Rectory

An eerie cascade of twisted tones

For this place had laid to rest the bones

Of all those who had lived within its walls 

So what sounds were calling me?

A passageway, so dark, unwound beyond

And in the darkness of the tunnel lay

An old spiral staircase

Where bound upon a banister 

Hung a down turned silver cross

I walked with caution up the swirling spiral stair

Unaware of a flow of molten fire

Sweeping out so far below

And with every step I took

I heard the weeping of the lonely ones

And saw the faces of the dead with every wistful look

I reached out into a burning crystal light

But lost my step… 

I tumbled,

Humbled within a shadowed cold abyss

Where I danced to the eerie music in a cloud shrouding mist

There I heard the cries of the faceless ones

Who would never eat at the Banquet

The cast out forgotten sons

Who, unforgiven, were wrapped in a blanket

Of smothering stygian black,

Callously dismissed from above and beneath

Warranting not the gibbet, nor the wreath

No harp played here, not within these dark vaults

Stark and empty, but touched by sin.

A torturing pain so sharp burned within

As jets of searing flame

Came tearing from the molten well below

The fire lit smoke choked Hell

Where the demonic Styx did flow…

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