Shadows and dust
We are all plagued
By an incessant
Wanting to be alive
Forgetting why
It’s gone
Awaking, feeling alive
Knowing the only
Thing that stalks
Is life; we have it
To use, love, feel
And be staked
By death
Vultures and ravens
dance in anticipation
as they wait for their fruit
they know before we do
of sunken eyes that can
only give a flicker
the pallor of aged paper
parched and thin
is getting closer everyday
a shrinking future drifting
into a billow of clouds
inside the time capsule
of wants and needs
a three dimensional dream
my virtual reality tour
of wasted years
how do you get back
what never was
but should have been
stolen moments of a kiss
I’m still chasing an idea
the pursuit of my own
reinvention
You can never enter a world of
sorrows,
it being just a touching point
trajectory where wind mingles
with rest of the world,
you brush against it
ripples of waves
on seafront,
you touch it and,
you are dead.
why hasn’t anyone ever told me
so many lives passed before me
yet nobody came back to tell me
what it’s going to be like for me
no hints or clues laid out for me
only the uninformed swear to me
the experts in robes promise me
by repeating age-old fables to me
only by dying I’ll know
only by dying I’ll know
As a skeleton
shrouded
in rags
provides its
all-too-familiar
services,
we dance
on graves
of friends
and lovers
to celebrate
their legacies,
and we find
ourselves
choosing
life
despite
the sweeping
blade.
Dig at it,
the graves
you may not find bodies
not human enough
but pests and vermin
flat-footed monkeys
owlish ghouls, remnants of tears, deceased with hollowed skeleton
marks
blood of vampires.
I haven’t seen my friend Anne in a while.
My parents say sad things that don’t make sense,
“Her dad will never walk her down the aisle,”
And now they talk about her in past tense.
We dress in black and all get in the car,
It coughs to life and then we’re on our way,
My father says that we won’t go too far,
Somehow I feel that this is a sad day.
We pull up to a scary looking place,
Her parents are in front both wearing black,
Has Anne been lost? I hope that’s not the case.
We walk in together, no turning back.
In the big building she lays in a dome.
They call it a coffin, her brand new home.
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