Santa Izabel Of Guama (Baseado No Conto de Felipe Diniz)

Cemetary, down in Guama
Clarivoyants, see and hear the dead
In these houses, this is common
The dead are jealous, of the lives we have

Pass! Leave! Look for God!
Pass-pass-leave!
You don't belong here anymore!

Reach my husband, reach my children
Green and black- rank and raw liquid
Thought I saw things, then I smelled things
There's a presence, trapped behind my mirror

And in this place, clarivoyance; any inkling- it will surely bloom
Hear the footsteps, see the faces, smell the rot and listen as they speak
And they'll speak, how they'll speak!

There's a pattern, to the losses
Exact places, many the same way---

Decomposition. Seeps into water. Hallucination. A poisoned victim