I 'm a newborn writer. Don't expect any masterpieces.

Thirteen skulls in the cold, dead ground

A hundred years, they made no sound.

The first was fixed by an iron pike.

The second brained with a miner's spike.

And three, and four were marked alike.

The fifth one lay with it's crown in gore,

where the digger's knife had left it's score.

And the sixth was stabbed, four times more.

The rest of them, too, lay stiff and stark.

Seven dead more in the cold and the dark.

And each one, too, bore the murder mark.

T'was pick axe blow, or an ounce of lead,

left yarn whole in a battered head,

til the ground below ran mud blood red.

They wrapped them each in canvas tight,

with spade and hoe and azure's bite.

They lowered them down and out of sight.

With an "Yo heave Ho" and a "fair ye well".

Thirteen graves reeked a fresh mud smell.

One fathom below, the spot they fell.

Thirteen skulls in the cold, dead ground.

A hundred years, they made no sound.

Where bone becomes iron, where flesh turns to stone.

Where the trees known as "Gore Wood" are said to have grown.

Of this place we sing, but no more is known.

Of this place we sing, but no more is known.

(A poem from Halloween Horror Nights 15: Tales of Terror)

If your world has crashed around you, and your hopes and dreams are gone;

if you wish your life was over, but it drags you on and on,

then lock up your door forever, with all your ruined goals.

Throw away the key, come along with me to the Carnival of Souls.

It's an easy thing to cash in, all your chips and fine wine.

And the kind of life you lead doesn't leave that much to hide.

When your flame grows dim with darkness, and alas, the lone bell tolls,

listen well to me: the bell tolls for thee from the Carnival of Souls.

But think twice before you enter. Once you're there, you can't return.

For the world as you know it has the hardest thing to learn.

In the heartache and the sorrow, we'll stay warm like glowing coals.

Yes it's sad but true, they're a part of you in the Carnival of Souls.

(A vocal version of a classic song by Verne Langdon. The harpsichord and the calliope/organ versions are creepier.)