In Pursuit Of Death Poem by Michael Carlson

Casket lying open
In the gold dark mornings light
Her face, it's so cold and white
Hoping this isn't real....hoping...hoping....

Faint so faint, the people voices ring in my ear....
I expect her suddenly appear
And tell me this is just a dream..
But i know it isn't, I can still hear her scream.

All i see is a burr
Nothings real any more
Like I'm fast forwarding to where i get to her
But i keep going back to the image of her bloody body on the floor

And then i too
Am just a body on the ground
You...you...i need to get to you...
I utter no more sounds...

by Michael Carlson