Deaf Gypsies Sway

Deaf gypsies under starry night,

Dance with soiled wings of turmoil's flight.

Whilst the whispering ravens of hallowed field,

circled the dying men's eyes, waiting for their souls to steal.

Hyssop and larkspur filled the priest boiling pot,

As ritual purification exemplified mans spiritual rot.

Smoke and ash rose from the shallow room,

whilst omens of disaster on the cloudless horizon did loom.

For upon this starry, but moonless night,

The sins of mans hidden rage comes to light.

As he in his pomp and circumstance,

Fails to see why deaf gypsies dance.

With... 

Too many lies

Too many crimes

Too much evil

Does his soul attempt hide.

Yet, death is upon him this final day,

As he in hallowed field

succumbs to the deaf gypsies sway.

J. Allen Wilson © 2004