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Sep 2012
It was the longest night of my life
I had finally reached the end of the waterfall
Long since dark, a few hours after nine
And there it was;
A shadow in the green, yellowy fog
Does my mind play tricks on me?
Most of the time, but not this time
I was certain of what I saw . . .

The first day after the attack
I left the bodies of my loved ones
Six feet underground
Behind the old shack

I took the boat down through the trees
Off the beaten path, down the hill
Into the world that would soon be
My own.
My home.

The wind was strange that day
There was a certain smell that hung about the air
Like a sweet and silent decay
A haunting thing to stop me there
The memory passed, I carry on

But the feeling remains . . .

It was a few skips down the river
Where the first house found me
Barely standing,
                           like everything else remaining . . .

Oh, how the fear crept up and down my spine
The sight was a sight unbelievable.
How could he have survived?
and dare to intrude on my life.
It was then up to me,
                         to lead him to the light.

     You think you could be a killer in the old world?
     Like say, you were watching some lame *** action movie
     With some gnarly assassin, or kung fu master
     Slaying everyone and everything, and then getting all the girls.
    
     Yeah I could see myself doing that . . .
     You have to know,
     You have to have killed in order to have made it this far,
     Are you okay with that?
     Does it help you sleep at night knowing that you've taken a life?
    
     You want to know something . . .
     It's alright with me
     I've been told from the voice below . . .
     The king downstairs
     Gave me eternal life
     A little vile from of all that is vile.

     **** this.
    
     Light brings salvation.

How could it be?
I could not imagine a way
The image of another lost soul
Hung up on the rotting wall
Her remains remained locked up so long
I took another hit. Headache blends
The memory passed, I carry on

But the feeling remains
For the next few days
I kept the image there on the wall
Until the fire started . . .

I decided to walk to the fire
As I reached the flames
There a figure appeared in the funeral pyre
"Hello!" I shouted . . .

Just then the fire deceased
Extinguished & cold.
Just as my heart was

But how could this be?
There was a fire!
I guess the smoke got to be too much
For their souls to live here now
I carry on, the memory passed
But the feeling remains . . .

That night the wind was colder than ever
I thought of her smile and wished she was here
The memory flashed and it was beautiful
I could see it all! Astral projection.
But the feeling remained; the feeling of fear.
I couldn't help but think of the evil I done.

How could I have done what I had done?

Awake.
What the **** happened last night?
Where am I? Where is my mind?
The room was destroyed and it smelled of the smell
The scent that loomed in the air on the first day
It's ******* freezing . . . My hands are ******* frozen
My eyes are solid shut shutters.
Where is my coat?

I thrashed around the house to see what I could feel
But the memory would not leave me still
Where did all this blood come from?

My God . . .


It's me . . .


A strange wave of euphoria swept over my body
I lost a piece of myself somewhere along the way
This I knew for certain.

Where was my coat?
The air that day was so cold
A bright light flashed and I knew
That I was in for it

The air around me had suddenly vanished
The sun that once hung in the sky
Had now vanquished

I have become comfortably numb

When would the feeling return?
The sweet memory had left my mind
But why?

Why could I not return?
When would the sun return?
When would her spirit return?

Could it be in death?
Or in a life not yet lived
The memory had left,
I cannot carry on
But the feeling somehow still remained

It was the longest night of my life
I had finally reached the end of the waterfall
Long since dark, a few hours after nine
And there it was;
A shadow in the green, yellowy fog
Of course my mind plays tricks on me
Most of the time, but not this time
I was certain of what I saw . . .

The outline of her ghost.
Andrew McElroy
Written by
Andrew McElroy  30/M/Florida
(30/M/Florida)   
959
 
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