My Last Nightmare

by Stephen Watson

In the mist enshrouded cemetery
The shades of all my victims
Rise from sunken graves.

With outstretched arms they
Point multiple perished fingers
At my black guilt.

As the faded tombstone
Inscriptions bleed marble;
In sympathy with their owners.

And the stormy sky rains
Black blood upon my body;
In condemnation from the heavens.

I stand immobile as the victims
Dance the deadly dance of death;
Forming a ring of wraiths around me.

The mournful chants begin with a
Whispering intonation, gradually rising
To a cacophonous crescendo.

One word only;

‘Murderer’, ‘murderer’, ‘murderer’.

I stagger backwards as the wraiths
Advance and grab my frozen arms.
Shaking me violently as they chant;

‘Murderer’, ‘murderer’, ‘murderer’.

The shaking continues as I open my
Blood-shot eyes; and see the face
Of the prison chaplain;
Awakening me from my nightmare.

Only to give me the last rites,
As I am led to the execution chamber;

And an appointment with all my victims.

27-Feb-2013

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