Beyond the Dead

Listen close to the whispers of the Dead.
Hear the secrets and despairs of those
Who only wish to tell their stories.
Settle down in fields of forever
Watch as the Dead tell their stories
And the trees shiver in response.
Rest in the day of yesterday.
Know nothing of the present or tomorrow.
The Dead will give the truth
That none can see.
For the Dead can see what the Living cannot.
For the Dead can see what the Unborn cannot.
For the Dead can see what the Gods cannot.
Listen, for the stories are of violent sorts
Of romantic sorts
Of disastrous sorts
Of disturbing sorts.
Hear what they have to say,
For they will not be here tomorrow.
For they will not be here today.
For they live in the days of yesterday.
They live in the days of yesterday.
For yesterday is tomorrow’s today.