When the moon is full and the hour is late,
And the veil grows thin at the cemetery gate,
The ground begins to quake and shift,
As spirits rise and shadows drift.
Out from the soil, the tombs, and the stones,
Emerges the army of hollowed bones.
Skeletons stir with clattering teeth,
As they break free from the earth beneath.
Through foggy mist and shadows black,
They creak and crawl, no turning back.
With empty eyes and grinning grins,
They start their ghastly dance of sins.
In tattered suits and faded lace,
They waltz around that haunted place.
No voices left, no breath to spare,
Yet laughter echoes in the air.
They bow, they spin, they tap and twirl,
Around the graves, they loop and swirl.
Their bones click-clack, a chilling tune,
Beneath the pale and watchful moon.
One skeleton leads with polished cane,
His bony face both proud and vain.
He taps his skull with hollow pride,
And dares the living to come inside.
For every step, each ghastly leap,
They call the souls who lie asleep.
And one by one, they rise again,
In this eerie waltz of death-bound men.
A ghastly bride in ghostly gown,
Waltzes slow, her smile a frown.
She clutches tight a skeletal groom,
As they glide around each ancient tomb.
And all the while, they sing a song,
A tune forgotten, lost so long.
A melody of dread and fright,
That chills the bones on Halloween night.
“Come join us now, come dance with me,”
They chant in ghastly harmony.
“Just one small step, come take our hand,
And join our dance upon this land.”
The living pass, they tremble and hide,
Afraid of the bony groom and bride.
For if they dare to dance too near,
They’ll join the dead within the year.
For when the dawn begins to rise,
The skeletons flee to darkened skies.
Their bony feet no longer prance,
The end of their midnight dance.
But next Halloween, beneath moon’s glare,
They’ll rise again, so all beware.
For in the still and haunted zones,
Awaits the Dance of the Hollowed Bones.
Sponsored • TRJ Ads
Inquiries: contact@therealistjuggernaut.com
