Inside My Tomb

Like the Phoenix I rise from my grave
Inside my own tomb
The shattered echoes of my past
Trying to claw me back under

Sleep escapes me one more time
Shall I never know rest?
The burden has been heavy
And the veil still seeks to cloud mine eyes
The fevered death grip of the end
Will always hunt me
It wants me down where the damned weep

As I scream, “Nein,”
The dead hover nearby
Greedy little smiles,
“Just a bad dream,”
A whispered prayer
Cannot erase
And these things cannot be undone

My reflection crying tears of blood
And the mark on my chest recalls
A flame unlit, a bullet taken
As I reach for release
My sorrow shall always
Remain just a glance away

Still on fire I do rise from my own grave
And shout into the wind
“Innocence is mine!”
It is mine and I will not surrender

© Christina Nabity
Written December 5, 2012

For awhile my grief and loneliness made it to difficult to even dip into poetry, and it's healing nature. Though I have found poetry a great tool for that there were multiple times where it hurt too much to grip that tool. At the time I wrote this it was a brief break from simply not being up to writing poetry.