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Poem

I breathe; I think; I slumber and I wake
I feel; I hear; I scream for pity’s sake
I push; I shove with little left to give
But six feet neath new fallen leaves, I live

I breathe the fumes of my putrefaction 
As I lie cramped with limited action
I hear the sound of my life below ground
Six hundred years worth of worms slinking round

I feel the splinters of oak ’neath my nails 
Each - one less day till persistence prevails
I sense that I shall enjoy the night soon
And be undead by the light of my moon

And now, there it is; the smell of the night
Your silver glint in the sky gives me flight
Those who interred me are many years dead
Their progeny live; and I must be fed

Shall any man notice your renewed glee
Your moonlight to them is daylight to me
I knew you were waiting, o light of mine
For we are coupled by ancient design

Warm me, my moon, my midnight accomplice
Restore my flesh; we’ve much to accomplish
Descendants of men who left you to grieve
Shall scream in the night when they hear me breathe

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