Funeral Bell

They shuffled past,
the occasion-group,
men blacked out,
in their mourning suits:

Fashioned Ray Bans
reflect the sun,
they hide red-eyed,
from the living ones.

This, their procession,
onto the wake,
Is the last time
they will undertake,

a gathering with
the laid-to-sleep:
This bright day when
they blindly weep.

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