As the bells ring through to straight to your darkest part of memory,
The part we let go of and forget, but sticks with us forever ,
Until you deal properly.

The gun shots fire!
As we plunge to the unforgiving ground.
Forcing us to stand in the enemies way and finally see what is real.

The sound of the soil being broken by cold rain and stiff shovel.
You can finally hear the spade and stone impinging,
as the surf to the shore.
Impaling the inside of your skull with its unconscionable force.
With every wave unhinging.

The bells ring louder with every toll calling to your shadow
Following like the reaper with his barrow.
© Ashlee Binger