I view the greens
of the cemetery field.
Graves full of flowers,
Except for one still.

Seasons had come,
seasons did go.
Summer's eve
and winter's cold

Headstones aligned,
all in a row,
a small single one,
sits all alone

No single flower
or family visits,
away from it all,
It's sad as I see it.

For ten long years,
nobody cared.
My feelings are somber
and mildly snared.

Viewing the marker,
my tears were so many.
The inscription it said,
"I love you, my daughter, Emily"

Deviant sound
penetrates my bone.
Inside the box,
hardened to stone.

Pounding and scraping,
six feet down.
Buried alive,
Silent and sound.

Dirt on the box,
softens my screams,
fight to the death,
don't want to leave.

Counting my time,
seconds don't last.
I am about to die,
My pain is the past.

Bore a hole
inside my brain,
open it up
and watch it drain.

Thoughts and dreams
waste away,
seeing nothing,
can not stay.

Mouth pinned shut
with wires and steel,
No screams of torture,
bloodied and sealed.

Lie naked on the slab,
Y on my chest,
You ripped my heart out,
I died like the rest.

Casting shadows of doubt,
tripping over myself.
Molten to the core,
put on the shelf.

Screws in my head,
pressure builds up,
Forty five degrees,
way to much.

Gauges turn red,
point of no return,
open the valve,
release or get burned.

Blinded by the steam
of terminal fates.
Staring alone
into the gates.

Looking at the stars
and squeezing the moon.
Down in the valley,
leaving real soon.

My mind gets trapped
in darkened bands,
hearing deep songs
by the traveling man.

Sad not fear,
plays it slow,
turning it back,
hearing the scold

Reversing the round,
demons release,
off with the head,
take it from me

Subliminally tripped,
it goes back around,
please turn it up,
Hearing no sound.