Banquet of the Dead

I walked into the banquet of the dead
Where all was silent, uniform and void
The hall was vast beyond my feeble ken
As each to their own meal was there employed

No sound was made, nor could I give one voice
I recognized so many as I passed
They interacted not amongst themselves
Despite unnumbered souls therein amassed

What is a meal, where there’s no fellowship?
What is a hall, where none will greet or hail?
So what is death – or was this just a vision?
Or was it life I saw there in that jail?

I asked forgiveness for the things I’d done
Then walked back into music
And to sun

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