Tale After Death
AND ON THE 25TH OF DECEMBER,
19-, I DIED AS A STRICT SATANIC MEMBER;
CALLED HOME BY MY FATHER STILL TO BE KNOWN-
BUT HAD I ANY HOPE? I BELIEVE NONE.
I CAME TO MY SENSES, THE AREA COLD,
AND I FELT A WEIGHT ON ME IN THE COLD HOLD;
A STRANGLING WEIGHT, AN UNKNOWN HUMAN BEING:
BUT I WAS DEAD – IN THE MORTUARY’S BIN.
“WHO ARE YOU UNTOP ME?” I ASKED AS CORPSES
SAY-“YOU ARE A HEAVY CORPSE:BAD SIZES.
I HEARD HIM YAWN AND STIR AS CORPSES DO.
“ WHAT ! DON’T YOU FEEL THE COLD? HAVEN’T’Y A CLUE.
“HERE’S A MORTUARY, AND I NEED ALL HEAT.”
I MERELY SIGHED, REGRETTING THE PIT.
“AND I AM DUE TODAY.” I HEARD HIM SAY.
“ THEN LET’S ENJOY THE TIME WE HAVE IN PLAY.
AND … AND WE HEARD THE MORTUARY’S DOOR CREAK
FOR TRULY HE WAS DUE FOR A SAD PICK:
A TIME WHEN FAMILY MEMBERS SO WEEP
WHILE OTHERS ATE DINNER WITHOUT SLEEP.
EXTRACTED FROM THE EPIC: “THE LAST DAY’S TALE.”
BY NFORCHE GERALD
APPROX: 600 STANZAS LONG.
SEARCHING FOR A PUBLISHER.
Copyright © NGT NGT | Year Posted 2010
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment