Hear It Calling

Beneath the loam, where silence breeds
A shadow stirs in restless plight
I buried him, my crime unheeds
Yet feel his clawing in the night

His voice, a rasp through fetid air
A specter’s hymn, a curse untamed
It bids me down the stairs in despair
Yet no tongue speaks the damned unnamed

Scratch, scratch beneath the floor’s tight grain
The boards do shudder at his call
Each groan and creak becomes a chain
That binds my soul to rise and fall

The grave exhales its rancid breath
A miasma cold, my guilt laid bare
The soil remembers, though he’s met death
And I cannot escape his stare