Buried alive
By Asouldivided
Deep voices screaming
From the inside I creep
Alive and still breathing
And that’s the worst….
Down here in this grave
-My favorite place to visit-
I again smell you
Still your hunting and haunting
even down here
I think about the deadly beauty
You stole from the essence
Of my life, again and again
Scratching my nails on this woodplate
Above me I hear these voices laughthing
Till just one voice remains
You are my curse
Now let me go, so I can again
Wander round those dark skies
Thrashing my arms at this cage of wood
Buried down beneath the endless lines of trees
I miss the sun with all her gaze and gentle smile…
Till you come back out of the eternal dark
kissing me down here in my grave
why can’t you let me go now?
After all these years of sleep
hate and pain are the weapons of death
The only language you used to speak
So I use them to come free…
Smashing the woodcage,
Digging and digging through the wet earth
Finally the warm light touches me
In my addled face
So warm and yet so delightful
Greedily sucking the fresh air
Running through all these trees
I start forgetting about you
Love and bliss are the weapons of life
The only language you used to speak
So I use them to run…
Running till I loose all the grip
No more solid ground under my feet
No more sun and trees
With a long scream I fall
With a long scream I wake up
I start to lash about in the darkness
Back down here in this grave
I wonder what I did wrong…again?
Do you know the answer?
Again I know it…
Comments on "Buried alive"
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A former member wrote:
"Alive and still breathing/And that's the worst" So many emotions laid out here, so open and ripping and raw...you tore gashes in my chest with your words, leaving me breathless. Excellent. ~*Beth*~
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A former member wrote:
beautiful,raw emotion so real like the endless stream of tears well done!
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On Sunday, October 22, 2006, carlosjackal
(2787) wrote:
Superb effort, fantastic imagery, language and variation in structure without losing the flow of the poem. Especially love the way the poem comes full circle.