W-alking through the garden of dead
I - saw things I’ve never seen
L-arge ancient chapel looking dread
L-eaning over where grasses once green
I-n front of its door was a gloomy rosewood
N-eatly inscribed with “THOU SHALL NOT’
G-rudging the entrance in an inimical mood
S-o I turn to the garden where roses spring forth
O-nly to witness empty graves and tombstone -
N-esting runaway-ghost’s broken bones

S-itting inside the chapel’s prayer bench
A-re thousands upon thousands of bookworm - looking wrench
U-nder their tiny glasses and sleeping caps, they
N-oisily serving themselves with bible stories as they prey
G-iggle, wiggle and wriggle they move from verse to verse
A-s their bookworm tails began to gleam into universe
O-f burning candles, saddle up the darken chapel