Dearly Beloved

Her name was Annabel-Lee, and she was buried alive.

Deep below

in a grave of earth

lies my destined fate

where I rose from birth.

 

I cannot see,

but I can hear

the priest’s words,

which fill me with fear.

 

“Dearly beloved,

we gather here today

to lay rest a soul

who was wonderfully gay.”

 

My sedentary hands,

folded across my chest,

reach out hands to the black ceiling

and scrabble in protest.

 

“She was a sweet child,

and a loyal friend,

who listened to troubles

until her end.”

 

What were they doing?

I wasn’t dead!

The way he was talking

struck me with dread.

 

“Here she lies

in eternal sleep

as we, her loved ones,

so bitterly weep.”

 

I swallowed hard

and began to cry out,

but then I realized

I couldn’t even shout.

 

No, I couldn’t even speak

a single word

because lips sewn shut

left me unheard.

 

“It was unfortunate

that she went this way.

Because of her deep pain,

I request that we all pray.”

 

Then, silence fell,

like dusk into night,

waning and receding

until no more light.

 

It was then I discovered

the chance that I sought.

I pounded the ceiling,

and for life I fought.

 

But do as I may

and did as I try,

no one answered

my boisterous outcry.

 

“And now, before

she’s lowered into the ground,

please pay your respects

as you gathered around.”

 

Frantically, I screamed

through sewn lips,

until thin thread

loosened and ripped.

 

The whispers from above

rose into singing,

undoubtedly mournful

and sweetly ringing.

 

Into the ground

my prison lowered,

light disappearing

as darkness devoured.

 

Once again I screamed.

Voice now free

gasped with strain

and croaked a soft plea.

 

Onto my prison

dirt thumped and landed,

as I growingly felt

morbidly stranded.

 

My screams were lost

in the silence of a grave,

and I remained uncomforted

by the peace that it gave.

 

I raked my nails

over the coffin lid,

desperate to escape

my fate horrid.

 

Blood crawled down

my pale, pale flesh,

disgustingly wet

and painfully fresh.

 

Alas, the coffin

refused to budge

under the weight

of damp sludge.

 

I couldn’t breathe

for the air disappeared,

leaving me choking and

realizing a fate long-feared.

 

Slowly, I felt

the life from me seep

and swallowed into

the beyond so deep.

 

They left me here

to die alive,

alone and forgotten

and for life to strive.

 

~       ~       ~

 

Dearly beloved,

we thank you to have read

the fate of a girl

who was already dead.

 

She hung onto life

and refused to believe

her leaving of this world,

which she did grieve.

 

Now you have read

the fate of a girl sweet;

a girl known as

Annabel-Lee.

Author's Note

Be careful what, or who, you bury. It might still be alive.

Reviews

[quinfinn]

this is excellent and twisted. reminds me of a piece i did but much more detailed and reverent. the reference to Annabelle lee makes me think of Poe "for this maiden lived for one thought alone, to love and be loved by thee". terrific write, wonderful!