deepundergroundpoetry.com
The fate of the followers
In the cemetery is where I lay
Breathing cold when the mourning crowd has gone
I'm am the rust
I am the Midnights chill approaching fast
Kissing goodnight to the day
As frost creeps over the headstones
I am the ravens call
I am loyal
I am dead
Is anyone there at all?
With promises of light and paradise
I have followed in your path
My feet becoming one with the mud
Although our footprints do not match
But now I rot and await the day
When the Angels trumpet rings
With insects burrowing in my skull
Through a skinless jaw I scream
A din of prayers echo upward
On our backs we face the sky
Rotting faces agape and waiting
Below the tombstones we bide our time
Breathing cold when the mourning crowd has gone
I'm am the rust
I am the Midnights chill approaching fast
Kissing goodnight to the day
As frost creeps over the headstones
I am the ravens call
I am loyal
I am dead
Is anyone there at all?
With promises of light and paradise
I have followed in your path
My feet becoming one with the mud
Although our footprints do not match
But now I rot and await the day
When the Angels trumpet rings
With insects burrowing in my skull
Through a skinless jaw I scream
A din of prayers echo upward
On our backs we face the sky
Rotting faces agape and waiting
Below the tombstones we bide our time
Published 16th Sep 2016
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16th Sep 2016 2:04am
16th Sep 2016 3:20am
by the shadows, you paint a bleaker picture than I. I am envious. Well done.
Anonymous
16th Sep 2016 4:43am
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Anonymous
16th Sep 2016 5:23pm
a Fan, as always ... Sir Violence, death in sorrow and waiting for what we're always promised does not seem what it seems until you're actually there ... while a provocative write, it is also a chilling one because you have given us a rare glimpse into the life after a death ... *outstanding* ... ~xo, Devlin.
