Cities of the DeadA Poem by justAnumberWritten for the Prompted Picture Contest, about the above ground tombs in New Orleans.Welcome all, to our Cities of the Dead, enter through these cast iron gates, sun bleached tombstones ahead, loved ones of past do await. Vaults, filled with riches, of memories in tow, no deep ditches, sea wont allow. Rusty ironwork, and candle-lined tombs . Shadows lurk, all inhabitants doomed. Water table, high, soggy graves below . peasants come to die, gather do the crows Like streets, paved with the bodies of men . death suites, hearing prayers, Amen Older the bodies, burial bags piled high, not quite The Illuminati, yet, seems evil, in disguise. Voodoo traditions surrounding, some of which, you may not know, watch your step, with graves, abounding, as you may cross paths, with Marie Laveau. © 2010 justAnumberAuthor's Note
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Added on September 8, 2010Last Updated on September 8, 2010 Author
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