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…