Member Poem

The Gravedigger worked alone,
In a cemetery dull and gray.
He tended the stones
And sold the holes
Where passed Souls
Would forever stay.
 
It wasn’t long however,
Until he encountered the endeavor
Of making the Souls stay.
 

They were wondering things

With their minds in slings
And easily lost their way.
 
The Gravedigger grew weary
Of chasing those dreary,
And eventually decided his play:
He would build a crypt
And lure them in,
And they’d never be able to stray.
 
So he began to build
What would soon be filled
With those wondering things. 
 
And as he created,
The Souls sat and waited,
Wondering what his toils would bring.
 
Soon, the Gravedigger’s crypt awaited
And the souls, so elated,
Went off to investigate.
But as they filed in,
The Gravedigger flashed a grin
And slid a stone in place.
 
The Souls beat against that rock,
But in place it was locked,
Forcing the souls to stay.
 
And now to this day,
In the middle of those graves,
The Gravedigger’s trap remains.
 
Nights are no longer plagued
With Soul runaways
And it is the Gravedigger we thank,
For he tends the stones
And sells the holes
And keeps the wondering Souls at bay.