And finally there is use again for this pain that always bothers
The advantage of a weary soul that detests its carnal binding,
Is the ease in which it pulls the dead out from their place of hiding
Yes, I can hear them calling to me— the voices from beyond the veil,
The warnings and the mournings and the future things that they entail.
It's still exciting as the first time that I looked to the abyss,
Always thinking it's the last time as my life goes more amiss,
But slowly do the years go by and each October's end,
I've been gifted this small blessing like an old familiar friend
This sporific power makes the space between us rend
Heals the homesick hearts as they go on— makes it possible to mend.