Something new I have written

  August 19th, 2018 by Cause of Death: Suicide

Felt as if I was being visited by the devil. I was dragged into a very dark place.
I couldn’t write about anything other.
This is about how I felt upon death, about how I presume vivid visual hallucinations will swamp your faculties.
And even after a physical death – I approach a hallucinatory experience.
No heart rate, no breath, but still images bustling in and out of your faculties.
In this stanza, the vultures are in the driest dessert.
They are crazed from dehydration.
They are everywhere, but there is no other wild life around apart from these vultures circling in the air.
Only the driest conditions.

A fire on the funeral pyre
Faith in Lord Satan
The Devil and His Mistress

What you’ll find upon your descent
The High Desert Vultures raiding the air
The last thing you’ll see:
The look in the Vulture’s eye.

You’re dead!
You’re dead!
The Vultures you can still see in your head.
You’re dead!
You’re dead!
The Vultures you will still see in your head.

It’s a rush of the quixotic
The screaming of the hawk
A Séance –
They wait on the prey
To sink in their talons

It’s going over your head!
It’s going over your head!

Circling Vultures, gouted from drought, wait the night.
They’re hovering right above your head

The cracks in the clay never fill
They grow exponentially until they split
Your bones, gnawed and thrashing,
Hurdled into the pit.
The fire starts upon your ripened skin
An easy catch to spark the flame
Dried and rough
You burn like brush.

You’re dead!
The crazed Vulture’s image ingrained in your head.

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