A Dance for the Dead

They come cladded in black and red:
A symbol of their seriousness
They have come because a son, a daughter; no,
a mother
has to be bid farewell, the last.
Respect for those gone; their final right
Whether they wicked or grim in that erstwhile life
But these people have come to Osu in chaos,
topsy-turvy, of no place to place the dead
The old with them, acrid, knowing their time is sure;
that same would not be done them.
Their solemn pass away should not be a dance
A burial is no place for mortal concert
The cadaverous matter itself a refugee
Where shall it seek rest?
A series of miscalculated undefined steps
only immanent in mortal confusion
Let's have more grief in rest,
then we shall dance a dance for the dead.