Skulls and skeletons

I wake up from the eternal sleep

staring into inky blackness.

Can't bear the stifling putrid stench

trapped in the stale stinking air.

Shock engulfed I sniff to realise

that it is me emanating the foul reeking odour.

I run my frail fingers

with long inches of dirty unclipped nails

beneath thousands of dainty unkempt braids,

my face hung slack, bloated and pale,

scarred and wounds untended,

the skin loosening and wilted from within,

gaunt eyes sunken into sockets,

bones, sinew and brawn exposed.

A bare perishing corpse is all I am now,

stripped off attire and aspirations,

shivering in the cold of the chilled stagnant air

embodied in filthy green moss and strings of cobwebs.

The organic remains of my body

mingling into clay and sand.

Bugs, worms and infesting viruses

crawling and creeping into my skin

and eating my insides.

My body might have aged, but did my soul?

Lying still and helpless in the lugubrious coffin,

brooding in impermeable onyx I reminisce,

digging into the glints of dwindling memories.

Vague flashes of images stream across

of how life once used to be--

I chased surreal dreams

But now, in the end they didn't even matter.

My dreams died unfulfilled

along with my mortal self.

My perennial soul refuses to cease existing.
Trapped in the decomposing dead body

windowless and numbed

to the perceptions of the outside world

unaware of the colours to see,

of music to hear, of textures to feel,

of savours to taste and aromas to smell.

I wriggle to be released, to rise up dead.

and break open the lid of the coffin

to realise my unfulfilled dreams.

But I don't find my spine and legs

All that I have is a rusted, crippled body

decaying little by little with a gordy odour.

The very blood that once coursed

through my iridescent veins
providing my every inch with life,
now clotted and caked,
turned a shade of stygian brown,

and froze in timeless age.

Residing in the murky dark hole of 6 feet coffin
I experience veiled in the
hollowed gravity of infernal hell,
that is sucking me into a pin-point hole.

Loneliness grips me,

tearing my already shredded self.

Pitch darkness consumes me ,
killing my already dead body.

My name now that nobody utters nor remembers,

is confined to the faded etchings of the tombstone marble.

'Rest in peace' it is engraved.

But regret, grief, sorrow return to claim

my life and peace even after my survival.

Neglected by loved ones who have forgotten me,

they pushed me into deepest corners of their memories.

I spend my time waiting for the reverberance of footsteps

of someone coming to offer me flowers.

Alas, the obliterated path to the graveyard is oblivious.

I feel pain but not the physical pain,

because I don't have a body anymore.

Not even the emotional pain

because I don't have a heart neither a mind.

It's rather an inexplicable crunching pain

radiating from where once my heart was

to the debilitated extremities.

I hear ghostly cries in the cemetery
of other spirits like me hauling

and pleading to be let out,
to seek revenge against those who live

unconcerned and indifferent to our deaths.

Rage gushing and spurting out my crumbled body

I break free of the corpse in resurrection

and join my brotherly souls and zombies.

Armed by axe and daggers in the spooky full-moon light...

we bellow together like a pack of wild hounds...

and vow to haunt and plague all the living...

and scare them to death.