the voices.
they're everywhere.
the darkness.
it's everywhere.
the pain.
it hurts . . .
where am i?
oh, right.
i'm dead.
a tunnel.
light suddenly streams through a
dot in the distance.
like a tunnel.
what?
it blinds me.
What is this?
but it gives me a feeling of
w a r m t h.
why do i feel so drawn to it?
i reach for it, vying for the
l i g h t.
vying for the hope in this Oblivion.
for i have died with regrets.
i have died not telling my
brother my feelings.
it was so sudden.
the organ music.
funeral music . . .
the audience.
my family and friends . . .
the coffin, shrouded in lavender.
lavender . . .
an elderly man standing at the podium.
my brother . . .
ah.
i see.
everything sounds tinny and
fuzzy around the edges.
like an old radio.
but i'm
y e a r n i n g
to hear his voice.
yearning to let it wash over me
in gentle waves.
but i know that that's impossible.
because i'm a prisoner of
Death.
and he's still roaming free within
Life.
yes, that's right.
i loved my brother.
and i still do.
even as a floating,
translucent
spirit of the dead.
it's wrong.
i know it's wrong.
but who can control Fate?
YOU ARE READING
A Bewitching Sunset (Brother/Sister)
Poetry❝ i have a secret that i've been keeping to myself for sixty-eight years. and now that the sun has set in your eyes, i will confess e v e r y t h i n g. ❞ All lowercase intended. #190 in Poetry 8.10.15 Copyright © 2015, Leigh Taylor | All Rights Res...
