The stale air
around me grew cold,
colder, until it reached approximately
fifty-two degrees, give or take.
I have been laying still,
for what seems an eternity.
I can’t move.
Couldn’t if I wanted to.
Silence and pitch darkness,
my only companions, save…
What is this? The walls, floor, ceiling –
all tremble as if it were
in the hands of a great giant.
I froze, though my natural state, now in terror!
The shaking and scraping interminable
Silence! my compatriot where have you gone?
Why have you fled before this scraping monstrosity?
My cranial nerves burned, but the rest froze
as my panic grew.
Presently the scraping ceased,
but it was a temporary relief for
it was replaced by a dull thud upon my abode,
like an iron knocker crashing into the
thick wooden doors of a voluminous stone castle.
The thuds were steady and seemed a waltz,
had I space and partner I may have been inclined
From waltz my mind transformed it to time,
specifically the ticking of an ancient clock, its
pendulum swinging back and forth,
beheading the air with each pass –
moonlight cascaded into my home, outlining a
pitch against a sweltering sky.
There were others behind him,
for I could distinctly hear them speak,
though the hushed tones and accents made it
impossible for me to understand.
A rope was passed amongst them,
one end fashioned like a noose,
which that looming figure before me
Once placed, he secured the noose with one quick tug,
nearly crushing my windpipe,
then with his compatriots,
drug me out
through the hole they had made
in my coffin, my home, and drew me
up through the hole they had dug.
I could not help but wonder how many
of those listed upon the stones were still
here, interred, not yet a gleaming coin
in the Ressurectionists’ eyes.
Corpses beware! lest you resurrect before
the Judgment. Stuffed into crates and barrels,
shipped in shadow to the backdoor
of some surgical theatre, so that some youth
might know you as intimately as your Creator,
then discard you into the clay you once were.