Wander beneath blood-black skies, who art thou ravished?
Under sickly mounds of human squander; these purgatorial shades,
E’er bare hellish laughter. Wherefore wander these, tormented minds?
Swelter beneath blood-smear masks, of dead masquerades.

Wading sloughs of flesh these helpless wander,
Treading eerie Limbo, henceforth, endlessly ere gates of hell;
Scratching madly with eyeballs back in their brains,
Drowning themselves within screeching calls of Dawn’s tolling knell.

Catherine Beahl

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/elegy-for-lost-boys-2009/