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Looking Down

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Looking down into the bottomless pit,
Her final resting place which will engulf her for all eternity, until time spins wild and heaven is found.
The pulleys hold the platform on which she will be dropped into that dreary, damp hole.
The men holding the sides of the casket ever warily near the platform, placing the casket there.
The men, women, and children, mourners with bright red eyes showing their grief.
The bright day with the sun high in the sky, counteracted by the solemn looks on people's faces.
The wind crying out a song for the lost, a ballad for the deceased.
Still there it is lurking ominously, the fissure ready to swallow her whole.
Here i am watching, crying as she slowly recedes into her grave.
The pulleys like clocks that when stopped, signal the end.
Those very same pulleys come bring the cords back to the surface no longer holding their cargo.
People walking around slowly throwing handfuls of dirt onto her prison, slowly sealing her away.
I wait long after everyone has left, standing over the dirt pile silent, ominous.
All I could hope for was one last goodbye, a luxury so cruelly stolen from me.
All the pain, all the sorrow, bottled up inside me was thrusted onto that patch as those flowers hit the ground.
All I could think of was one day, we'll be together again in heaven.
That day alone there will be no more goodbyes.





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Stella Gordon said...
Sept. 28, 2011 at 5:38 am
You have painted a picture in my head with your words, my friend. 
 
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