Sealed Tombs

Sealed Tombs

breathe no moisture
Are bone dry to the touch

Have no dust
suspended in their corridors

No heat nor cool
no shade no bright sunlight

No footfall to be heard
no echo

Do not interrogate the darkness
or finger the flesh

Unconscious
Without conscience

they walk our worst dreams
sleep by day

and by night no spectres
rattle the bones

But when their guts are revealed
will gasp their curses.

© Martin Porter 2006

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