The Rioting Bones

Moonlight guides the path

to the backyard

of my sturdy house.

I firmly grip

the rusty shovel,

woken up from a decade of slumber

in the dusty tool shed.

Hidden treasures lie within these soils,

so I dig deep

unearthing secrets

buried for far too long.

Skeletons arise enraged from the ground,

rioting against

the wrongful entrapment

of their guiltless souls.

Their bony hands are cold

against my bare skin,

cracking as they grab me

from all ends.

My shelter, ravaged,

my soul, tormented,

all hope is gone as I exhale

one last breath.

~

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