“Cemetery Nights” – Poetry

Poetry excerpt from Demonic Lulladies.

© Sitarra “LullaDIEs” Sefton

The air’s not cold tonight…
My long walk was made uninterrupted,
The warm breeze feels just right…
… I almost don’t feel corrupted.

I look up to see the sky is clear,
No clouds are in sight.
Shakey tree limbs are all I hear,
As I travel by moon and starlight.

I pause at the creaky iron gate; locked,
But I already know my way in.
Up and over the fence; quick not to be caught,
Safely on the inside, I grin.

It feels like home…
Always the same tombs…

I can almost feel Death’s finger,
As it grazes over my spine.
A reminder that I shouldn’t linger,
My grandfather I need to find.

I walk up a trail of headstones,
Repeating the names as I go by.
Even though them I didn’t know,
I’ve said their names a hundred times.

Then, I say the name most familiar,
And smile as I plop down in the grass.
I take out an old quarter; silver,
And offer it to my hero of the past.

I sit upon his burial mound,
Long covered up with grass,
On his lap, comfort was always found,
I need him as I watch my life crash.

Nervously I twill green blades around,
While the earth’s dampness seeps into my clothes.
My grandfather is under the ground,
But it’s like I’m on his lap; for us both.

Just like when I was a little girl,
And he was still alive.
Before my world was blurred,
By constantly tear soaked eyes.

I strain to remember every detail,
Of my beloved grandfather.
The memory of him is most crucial,
Without it, why would I even bother?

I learned so much from him,
I curse the God who took him so soon.
For just a moment; I’d commit any sin,
It’s like taking away the night’s moon.

He was remarkably patient,
Taking time to be sure I understood.
Even if sometimes he had to fake it,
His mood was always unbelievably good.

Whenever I was misbehaving,
He’d speak to me quiet as a mouse,
Forcing me to hear his words engraving,
Discipline with peace in his house.

He told me secrets, and I told him mine,
We truly were one and the same,
And now, some secrets I need to hide,
An attempt to bury my fears in his grave.

Hey, Papa.” I whisper,
Tears are threatening to break free,
I feel my lip quiver,
It’s me.

I sigh aloud,
I’ve lost my mind Papa,
I fear it can’t be found,
Life has become, blah…

And monsters took the helm.
I’m mentally shattered,
Emotionally bound,
And my morals are tattered…

Was it true when you said?
All those years ago,
That monsters live in your head,
Telling you all you know?

Is it true? Everything you told me?
Papa, I need to know,
Is this the family curse holding me?
Or a new demented show?

I wait, patient and still,
For an answer to be delivered.
Or at least, just until,
My location, demons discovered.

But only silence surrounds me,
And I shiver as it becomes cold,
My soul’s heavy with misery,
… Grandpa just became too old.

I know I shouldn’t stay out late,
But I wish I was six feet deep.
I lay down over his grave,
And cry myself to sleep.

Go home now my sweet angel,
This is a place you shouldn’t be,
Don’t mourn me, my angel,
You will be here too, eventually.

I wake covered in a blanket of frost,
The whisper raised me from my slumber.
Sitting up slowly, momentarily lost,
And wishing I could stay longer.

Bye Papa.” I kiss his tombstone,
I’ll see you again real soon.
I walk away, towards prosecution,
The night walking away from it’s moon.

I know exactly what it is I’ll do,
But first I have to make it home…
I look up, clouds devoured the moon,
It’s a dark, cold walk down the road.


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