Vansant's Cementary Poem by John I Nash

The day is done, the sun has started to hide behind the mountains, leaving the landscape to darkness and myself. Familiar shapes have now taken on ominous existence, company that I do not desire on this journey into the black wood to Vansant's Cemetery.

My presence starts to decline as involuntary shivers run up my spine. Stiffness envelops my limbs making it difficult to walk or stay, feeling like prey.

Struggling to have courage where only innocent shame can be found, I trudge forward. Eyes half shut as to hide from unseen demons that may abound.

Distant and near sounds surround my thoughts imperiled by an 0wl's silent hunt of an invisible rodent, that now has landed on the burlap sack that is my burden, it's sharp talons ripping open my charge spilling the dreadful contents to the ground.

Having been found guilty of murder and hung from a bridge the fall being to great separated body from mortal head and he was pronounced dead. Now his head lay at my feet, his empty eyes looking up at me.

I bent down to the ground to pick up the hideous dome when something touched my shoulder and I turned around. Frightful sight did I see indeed of a headless body summoning me.

To terrified to do otherwise, I moved forward carrying the head by its curls to the beckoning headless form when it grabbed my arm in a vice like grip and together we took a trip to Vansant's Cemetery.

Gates flung open, allowed our entry, now I being drug along the ground, found the soulless eyes of the head had come to life and were glaring at me.

There in the earth a deep grave had been plowed that allowed the headless being without seeing to fall into its murky depths almost dragging myself with it.

Clambering to my feet I looked down into the blackness and there lay the body with arms stretched up bidding me provide its head.

Knowing that I was going mad I looked at the head and it smiled at me as I flung it down to the body and ran from that unhallowed ground never to return to Vansant's cemetery