For Halloween, a nicely chilling tale from the band Reigns titled Mab Crease. I really love this song because it is a weird tale of the sea, something which is obviously dear to me. This is also from their third album, The House on the Causeway. First, the song.
And here, the words.
Widowed at 25
Mabel Crease did not cry.
Not on the day that he went to sea.
No, not on its anniversary.
Not after 2 years, not after 10,
Not after 50, not even then.
Mabel Crease did not cry
For she knew he was still alive.
Every dawn, so they say,
She walked along the great causeway.
She scanned the seas for his sail
For fifty years to no avail.
And then one day, a silver flare
A small hand mirror protruding there.
Coral handled, inset with stones
She held it up and all explodes.
The mirror in the shingle
That erased every single
Crow’s foot and line scrawled on her by time.
It did not reflect
The yellow aspect
Steeped in her eyes, her teeth and the webs
Of her flailing hands
That clawed at the sand
As she fell prone on the stones that now span
Like a vortex of seeds
Flashing and free
Black kernels of madness, unfettered, released.
That’s when she began to weep
For the girl that she’d once been
For the face under glass
And for her husband lashed to the mast.
She stared entranced and explored
Her youthful face, the tight contours.
The nights alone, the local bar:
They had not made a single mark.
But moving out from behind
Another face with blazing eyes.
With hair astir, on fetid air
It was her husband, reflected there.
And that’s when she knew
The glass was askew
And its coral frame a swift portal to death.
Her husband was gone
Gnawed-on and torn
Now afloat somewhere down
Deep, deep in the depths
A green riddle of bones
Inset with stones
Like that mirror that she tossed back into the sea
“No, no more of that”
She hissed and she spat
Into a dark, rolling coil of scree.