The grave that none shall stare upon

Mentally i think im not far from this point, but logic perhaps holds me back

my hand clasps tightly around the spade

eyes open , heart closed

never have i felt this free

the darkness nolonger in my head

but all around me

my work is complete

my job is perfection

and i stare on at what lays before me

carved with a chisel into bright marble headstone

here lies a girl

who's heart has turned to stone

who's body darkness life encased

and is now left to love, all alone

the girl she wrote this for herself

one dark and stormy night

she walked away from all she knew

and picked a chisellin knife

and now she lays below this ground

and wants you all to kno

noone pushed her noone asked

she jumped and waited for the light to go.

the last part took more work

my hands now ache from my final deed

the spade falls heavy in my hands

but a nice square hole upon the land for me to lay and rest

my head now heavy from lifes trial

and finally its over

my words fall upon the silent night

blown away by the wind

and nwo to jump to land and straighten

to place my head upon the dirt

one last jump with one last consiquence

knee's bent , eyes closed

and now i lay here just waiting for time to end

ive pulled the dirt upon me with that shovel in my hand

a burial where only one attends

and only one remains

here lies a girl

who's body has turned to bones.

Author's Note

ignore spellin and grammer

Reviews

[spence]

Hi Cappi. This is very dark and ominous and says a lot, to me, about futility and insignificance in the gauntlet, the 'humbling process' I call it sometimes, of life. It felt that the person in the story was simply working away until it was their turn to die, which isn't too far from the truth, (especially in mind of current affairs such as recessions, debt and working more to pay off someone elses- ie, government/corporate- debt), but on a personal level it spoke of a kind of 'existential angst'- the belief that there is no purpose in living, no fate or destiny to guide us, just one shot and that's it, bones,and dust. In those terms this made me wanna run out the house and start living asap!
It also reminded me of the old adage about 'everyone dies alone and could also be looked at as a suicidal thought process, lots to think about, good work, take care, spence

[Zarathustra]

I Like reading poetry that inspires me to question all aspects of life, including my own. I really loved this poem because I can look at your words and see myself, every word has it's own mirror and it's actually haunting to see what i've become and whats in store. BUT!! Like you I find a safe haven in every poem I write and It's nice to have a place to hide.

Thanks for Sharing :-)

[Twilight]

"who's body has turned to bones". This line could be a metaphor, for the protagonist losing all sense of feeling, or love? Or, that her will to live has died, or is as lifeless as "bones"?

The sad concepts of being alone, distant from love and a dire suggestion that the protagonist feels on the brink of death. Interestingly, the writer has reversed the perspective, in a way which shows the writer gazing at her own sorry corpse. Indeed, the writer shares the feelings and emotions, which pass through the mind of a doomed onlooker.

As other reviews have said, this is obviously a very dark piece of writing. It brought to my mind, both hopelessness, desperation and a sense that life can sometimes seem like a monotonous journey to death.

Thankyou, Cappi. Such a tragic and personal poem, yet more than welcome in my Group, "Twilight's Disciples".....

[deeps]

This is sad and dark. Written well though
I like the thoughts and expression put into it

[Kyronn Shurriah]

absolutely amazin so sad and emotional but brilliant luv ittttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt