Blackmass

When darkness creeps the night
And crickets start their grimes
Podium is ready,
The whimsical game 
That the cemetry play.

Battling their way out,
The gigs they stage.
Like a true sinister
Sombre night reigns

The knell is heard 
the choirs of oblivion they hymn
witnessing exuberence and pain
Obsequy they create

As the almanac turns grey
Eclipsing the dawn
Admidst this morbidity
Increase their sovereign

Life and death 
Refrained from the shackles of both
lamentations of redemption
But everything in vain.

Waging the war amongst each other
But no one fades here
As the faded fate 
Hinders their way.