The Wickeds Transient Sleep - Sarke

Harnessed outside the oxes are waiting

Anxious and restless, they’re pulling their chains

Sounds of the porous and blackened bones breaking

As men carry out the noisome remains

Stench from the dead is filling the open

As burden so heavy is dragged into light

Carriage is squeaking and bad words are spoken

Oxes will carry the corpse into night

A new grave is dug, meant to appease him

Meant to give end to the anguish and pain

Stones weighing down the atrocious and grim

The burial bed of the bloodless, insane

For as long as his son is alive he will sleep

Giving his people the peace that they wanted

But the last son will die, his dried mind will weep

And his frightened environs will always be haunted