Hell’s-dancing

The dead followed Cain’s river; a silver-shining ribbon of traitorous blood.

The owl spoke softly of an archaic land not seen since Adam’s time.

Spirits rattled their weary bones; clattering, skulls-first along a desecrated highway.

Ash-blackened shades turned restlessly in their unhallowed graves; one damned soul crying for another.

Penance seeped from star-dusted pores; remorse a bitter tongue on salt-crusted lips.

Specters faded, dust-quiet, into the dawn; a purgatory of eternal darkness their prize.