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He was the only one from the house of the dead at the cemetery

and he scared the living daylight out of other guests at the funeral

shuffled in rigor mortis and reaped a few condescending remarks

How dare he wield the scythe in his sick hand as if he was real


All the other mourners were dressed in white clothes and offered

eulogies so distorted that none recognized the deceased woman

who hence appeared to be an apparition hallucination and phantom

but he stood tall a few yards away from the expensive marble tomb


Wreathed and writhing she convulsed in her gold-plated coffin 

tore the silk and satin lining in post mortal agony and disapproval

Those greedy bigots are shameful to pretend sorrowful everlasting love

they never took me seriously when I rejected their anger and wrath


I cannot breathe with such onslaught of hellfire and false tears

thought I had got rid of their dishonesty and dispassionate lies

Finally I could rest in peace and savour kindness and solitude

and then they spoil this moment and desecrate my final transition


Fortunately the ghost was for real and dispersed the demonstration

of counterfeit sadness cast a spell on the congregation had arranged 

for water cannons tear gas and slurry and wielded jolly good canisters 

of pepper spray to give them comeuppance and something to cry about


They did not know yet what she had decreed in her last testimony

made them wait for after the burial to prolong avarice and suspense

and delayed the opening of her will until one of them killed off the rest

Call it assisted and advanced suicide in the name of seeking the truth


18th February 2021

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