When I Had Died Poem by Victor Sklyarov

When I had died
I realized how easy is to fly,
I had no weight, could move through walls,
And nearly sank through floor,
But shrugged away being abhorred
By sight of own corpse.
I’d fly away –
It would remain
Decaying near bedside.
I must be out of my mind,
The awful stink would make
Some poor strangers break
Steel door locked from inside.
I swam to door – the key’s in lock
But hands I cannot see, as if in mock,
Slip down through key. I’m in havoc.
The key’s big apple of my world,
My mind has swirled
I concentrate it, squeeze, rotate…
Ay, key has stirred! Just wait!
I double force, last effort – clicks the lock
The target’s reached, I haven’t been a flop.
Toil-worn I’m crawling back
To rest in own body bag.
Come what will be!
I hear beat -
It is my heart
Pulsate so hard.
And I can wheeze.
I struggle to feet
To check the door –
It’s open. I am alive once more.