The Graveyard.

 


The Graveyard.

It was a dark night of September 
the end of summer, the beginning of fall.
I was walking in it, trying not to think
as much as I did.

The tombs were made of bricks 
some had flowers, others did not.
There were crows,
everywhere along the way.

I looked at all these names,
marked forever in stone 
all these lives that once were,
but will never be again.

Some of them had children 
some of those children already passed.
And then she was there,
standing in a long black dress.

The Morrigan.

She seemed cruel,
but knew better than to be mean.
She asked what I was looking for here.

I said:

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be here 
at the edge of humanity,
the limit of death.”

I thought I was funny.
It didn’t make her laugh.

Instead, she waved her hand 
and I blacked out.

The Fall.

I fell so hard into the dark
I didn’t know it was possible.

My body was unfeasible,
a spirit trapped inside an object.

Then I woke up in a labyrinth.
I searched for a way out 
for days, for weeks,
maybe even months.

The days grew colder
as my inner voice went quiet.
I gave up hope for so long,
I forgot there ever was any.

And there she was.
The Morrigan, waiting at the end.
She said it was time
to confront what I didn’t want to see.

The return.

I rose from my grave 
and the sun was there again.