Step soft where the willow weeps Where earth remembers what it keeps I walk the rows of crooked stone With lantern pale and steady hand The priests all curse my given name Yet still they fear what I command I do not raise them for a throne Nor crown of bone nor tyrant’s cheer I wake the lost to speak their truths So lies may rot and kings may fear If death’s a door, then I hold keys Rust and silver, bone and breeze Raise your cup to the graveyard king Not draped in gold but midnight thread I dance where quiet church bells ring And bargain softly with the dead Not hero pure, nor villain vile Just keeping balance all the while They call me fiend with hollow breath Yet beg me when the plague arrives When mothers weep for stolen sons Guess who returns their last goodbyes Snap once, snap twice Bones don’t roll like loaded dice Pink-gilled grin in lantern light Axolotl smile at death’s own bite I do not conquer, I converse With echoes bound in clay The grave is but a library And I… just turn the page Raise your cup to the graveyard king Not draped in gold but midnight thread I dance where quiet church bells ring And bargain softly with the dead Call me dark if that you must But even shadows serve the just When your time comes, do not fear I’ll walk beside you — calm and near
