And of course it’s dark Empty screams, bodiless shadows The owner accepts entry but forbids exit The colorful chanters, the not so excited dancers A mixed crowd of passers-by A cold set of neighbors We call in, no response We wonder what route the owner has taken Our first-borns on life street, holla at the house and its owner But people ask, Why is the owner so silent? Why is the house so dark? And our elders quietly say “IT IS THE HOUSE OF THE DEAD”