Requiem For Nothingness Poem by Yasmin Hemmat

The dark moon
shines upon the graves,
across the mist-veiled plain of night.

A woman,
with the black hollows of her eyes,
gazes into the abyss of nothingness,
bearing a corpse upon her shoulders.

The lament of owls
tears through the veil of night.
Someone calls my name,
but the voice
is buried in the darkness.

The barren trees,
with their skeletal hands,
claw at the empty sky.

The wind, howling,
draws the woman's tangled hair
across her face
like a black shroud.

A ravenous grave,
its mouth agape,
waits to devour the corpse,
its gaze fixed upon the abyss of nothingness.

The woman,
with her claws,
clutches the corpse.

Someone calls my name,
but the voice
is buried in the darkness.

The  depthless, empty  sky
roars.
Rain
drips from the hollow sockets of the sky.

From the cracks of the earth,
crimson serpents
crawl forth,
coil around my legs
like ivy,
and drag me
toward the dreadful mouth
of the grave.

The wind, howling,
draws my tangled hair
across my face
like a shroud.

I clutch my corpse
more tightly
with my claws.

And I no longer know
who is carrying the other
I,
or my corpse.