Of Cemetary Dreams (And Nightmare Scapes)

awoke again to the sounds of death
the creeping silence of restless breath
the sounds I hear I cannot mistake
only death can sound this way

I feel the sun upon my face
enraptured in its warm embrace
within my eyes I see its glow
even though my eyes are closed

a whispered wind invades my ear
I feel the world that I can hear
the channeled sounds of lifeless life
the lonely cries of those who have died

I open my eyes to see the sun
and find the world has come undone
a dark eclipse shades my face
lost within a shadowed embrace

markers with dates of death descend
as far as my eyes can transcend
in every direction I can see
the stones of death surrounding me

wilted flowers with decaying leaves
symbols of love from those who grieve
tattered angels with broken wings
left by those who truly believe

the leaves within the trees have gone
skeletal beings with demon claws
scratching and clawing at the wind
coming to life again and again

I turn to find a place to run
looking to see the warming sun
but the black and grey in the sky
pulls the color from my eyes

from the clouds the rain falls down
it floods my soul and my spirit drowns
below my feet the muddy ground
swallows my shoes and keeps me bound

I hear the whispers of the living dead
their cries for life echo through my head
I cover my ears to mute the screams
but it seems that they re inside of me

to my knees into the mud
I tilt my head to the shadowed sun
I scream aloud at the sky
to silence deaths woeful cries

the falling rain stings my eyes
and burns the color to lifeless white
streams of blood flow down my face
within my mouth the salty taste

I push the mud with my hands
with all my might I try to stand
to my thighs the mud has crept
and now my arms are elbow deep

I feel the muck against my skin
it moves and pulls and draws me in
I strain and fight to break its grasp
until I feel I might collapse

I scream and cry and beg for help
even though I'm by myself
into the wind my lonely pleas
melding with the dead that scream

as whispers creep into my ears
the sounds of death is what I hear
my own demise before my eyes
among the stones of death that rise

peering through the rains that blind
upon a stone my name I find
carved within the granite face
its here that is my resting place

the ground has drawn me to my grave
the trees were clawing at this place
the whispered voices were trying to say
that everything will be ok

to just let go and wait and see
the whispers were meant to comfort me
to try ease my rising fears
even though I refused to hear

the sun reflects on the granite face
the flowers feel its warm embrace
upon the ground I feel its glow
even though my eyes are closed

wilted flowers with drying leaves
left for me by those who grieve
tattered angels with broken wings
left on my stone for company

the whispered voices in the wind
rising up to sing again
a channeled sounds of joyous lives
reunited on the other side