Sepulchral Toll
by Ryan Nienaber
The moment of the sepulchral toll
Power and prayer, both lose control
Holy men and Kings laid low
No matter—into the ground we go
Plagued or well, the short or tall
Home or abroad, the Bell will call
[Bell toll, Bell toll, Bell toll]
Necropolis silence swallowed whole
The echo from this sepulchral toll
Faith unravels thread by thread
Madness hums where reason fled
Each reflection creates a hole
Another self, another role
Men and women, babes and old
Broken hearts, their stories sold
Masks of virtue, a painted show
No matter—into the ground we go
Bell of mourning breaking wide
Ringing inside a hollowed mind
Each chime without control
The summoning of its sepulchral toll
Eyes in glass begin to weep
Dreams grow teeth, gnaw so deep
Every prayer a web-spun lie
Each breath a slow goodbye
Accidents strike and cancers spread
Weak and strong join the dead
By knife or gun, we may not know
No matter—into the ground we go
Unkempt stones of guided rows
Pride or pity, none dare oppose
Hearing the Bell let sorrow roll
It sings evermore, the sepulchral toll
Now darkness covers every face
Memory fades without a trace
Sanity devoured by fears untold
Eager to feed on vagrant souls
Dressed in silk or dust and ash
Rich or poor, regardless of class
Poured in urn or sunk down below
No matter—into the ground we go
Every stripe of man, reap and sow
Consigned to the cold, tag on toe
Closer it comes, the sepulchral toll
No matter—into the ground we go
Left in silence, none to console
Dust to dust—the inescapable woe
[Bell toll, Bell toll, Bell toll]
With the Bell to deliver the blow
No matter—into the ground we go
The death knell of its sepulchral toll
Power and prayer, both lose control
Holy men and Kings laid low
No matter—into the ground we go
Plagued or well, the short or tall
Home or abroad, the Bell will call
[Bell toll, Bell toll, Bell toll]
Necropolis silence swallowed whole
The echo from this sepulchral toll
Faith unravels thread by thread
Madness hums where reason fled
Each reflection creates a hole
Another self, another role
Men and women, babes and old
Broken hearts, their stories sold
Masks of virtue, a painted show
No matter—into the ground we go
Bell of mourning breaking wide
Ringing inside a hollowed mind
Each chime without control
The summoning of its sepulchral toll
Eyes in glass begin to weep
Dreams grow teeth, gnaw so deep
Every prayer a web-spun lie
Each breath a slow goodbye
Accidents strike and cancers spread
Weak and strong join the dead
By knife or gun, we may not know
No matter—into the ground we go
Unkempt stones of guided rows
Pride or pity, none dare oppose
Hearing the Bell let sorrow roll
It sings evermore, the sepulchral toll
Now darkness covers every face
Memory fades without a trace
Sanity devoured by fears untold
Eager to feed on vagrant souls
Dressed in silk or dust and ash
Rich or poor, regardless of class
Poured in urn or sunk down below
No matter—into the ground we go
Every stripe of man, reap and sow
Consigned to the cold, tag on toe
Closer it comes, the sepulchral toll
No matter—into the ground we go
Left in silence, none to console
Dust to dust—the inescapable woe
[Bell toll, Bell toll, Bell toll]
With the Bell to deliver the blow
No matter—into the ground we go
The death knell of its sepulchral toll
Ryan Nienaber is a contemporary author whose poetry invites readers into the deepest recesses of the human experience—exploring themes of identity, mental health, societal alienation, and the ephemeral nature of time. His debut collection, Fragments of Fire and Time, delves into themes of hauntingly introspective, weaving threads of philosophy, spiritual crisis, and personal reckoning into a lyrical tapestry of renewal. "Sepulchral Toll" focuses on mortality, ritual, and the psychological echo of death, written in a Gothic, hypnotic style.