B. C. πŸ₯‰πŸ‘€

I have a theory about ‘Death.’

Also known as “Unknown.”
I am not an expert, by any means-
But these are my experiences, alone. 
The last thing I saw, as I gave up on life-
Was my Grandma’s old bronze lamp. 
As it swirled away the rest of the light-
My entire world went black. 
The most quiet sleep, I had always craved-
Was suddenly- interrupted by a man? 
If I had a life-
He scared it back into me-
For right in my face- he would stand. πŸ‘€
As close as he was, analyzing me-
He had no face and no hands. 
Only because, he was right there so close-
Shoulder-length; was the sight that I had. 
Seconds would be eternity-
Misinterpreting, I would go home-
Until his neck started ripping-
Almost headless,
Only a sliver of skin; would hang on. 
It horrified me enough-
To launch me back; Into the Trial of Sleep. 
Then sitting right there, was my Mom-
Inconsolable, with her sea of weeps.  
I tried so hard to call to her-
And assure her that I was alright. 
Alas, she couldn’t hear me at all-
Because I chose to steal my life. 
The Trial of Sleep is blank space-
I am not worthy of, to remember. 
But my theory is-
During that time-
I was judged by the Almighty Savior. 
Now the ‘Walk of Shame’
Has a new name-
As I live on to make amends. 
But if you recall my story about that crow-
Then you also know how it ends. πŸšͺ

CMK

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