The Afterlife

weeping willows, as the branches shriek for the sun
cold drops come dancing on the asphalt
the silent war has begun
I'd like to know where it all started
before I await entrance to the end
looking for something to stop me
as the anticipation transcends
the melody hardens
and I'm as weak as a corpse
awakened from my coma
my visions cut short
like a ghost, you can see through me,
transparent, yet still not free
loathing your fear and I tremble
in my chest lies a candle
its flame 

            almost dead
I'd like to know where it all started
before I await entrance to the end
I watch the grim reaper carve
the souls with his knife
I look past my tombstone
and I welcome you to the
afterlife

Reviews

Anything with willow trees in it gets my undivided attention. I love them.

catchy, catchy, catchy.

this is just my type of writing style.

[Fran Marie]

as the anticipation transcends
the melody hardens
and I'm as weak as a corpse
awakened from my coma
my visions cut short



Yes, indeed the grim reaper awaits us all~some glimspe

the afterlife thru~ the tunnel before the final entrance

well expressed and nicely penned

THanks for this dark piece in Dk December's Contest

Fran Marie

[Wondering Mind]

The picture you've painted in this word weaving of thought is darker than gray. I get the feeling that the person is "talking" to the "self" rather than a second person. Maybe I'm way off on this. You certainly have a unique style in poetry.