I lay in my bed sleeping and I fight with the darkness,
Like a serpent the memories come crawling;
The voices of the dead are calling.
Memories that encompass me like a thick blanket,
I am trying so hard to push them away and not recall;
The cemetery is waiting as always and I am so afraid.
Of the hush and the rows of tombs and tombs,
The voices of the dead are whispering.
And finally I cannot hold on any longer and I let go.
I am falling into the deep and into a void of oblivion;
But tonight, I am able to push the horror away,
And I am cozy in my bed with kitty purring.
The voices of the dead quiet tonight.
August 16, 2013
Submitted to the contest, Any Poem, Any Subject, Anne Currin