Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1319781-Sightless
by Ani
Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #1319781
Call of the dead.
Deep, deep within the earth I lie,
To let the winds let out a mournful cry.
The moon lets down a silver sheet,
To creep upon the grave's entangling weeds.

My soul treads upon the silent land,
Leaving behind a stretch of virgin sand.
My heart lets out a soundless wail,
Which blows away along the tireless gale.

A low trundle of footsteps sounds nearby,
Approaching the grave where my remains lie.
A pair of knees touch down the soft ground.
Below which I may have rested, quiet and sound.

I reach out a hand, unseen and cold,
While he brushes aside the florals and mould.
My touch seems to rush down his spine,
Turns behind and sees none of his kind.

The seemingly barren land no longer so,
A spine chilling wind lashes to and fro.
The ground wipes itself of the rotten leaves,
A crooked branch upon the moon rests to cleave.

The chill brings along a trickle of fear,
On the handsome face so close and dear.
A heart beat skipped and a step taken back,
Brings his senses and dawns him back to track.

An answer from the dead, painfully silent,
Floods through him as torrents so violent.
My unseen hand and laments unheard,
Pushes him away from me without a word.

My lone self looks after the path he downed,
Silver tears trickle on the treaded ground.
A wall seems to part us, invisible between the twosome,
And vows to lift and bring us together in years to come.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1319781-Sightless