PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

...where am I?

Everything here is foreign, alien to the eyes;

the sense of detachment about me is strong.

Upon my death, I could feel the spirits,

their longing for my own soul lain bare;

I could feel them unhinge and rip the life from me.

At that moment, I did not die,

but rather begin another course.

My words being spoken beforehand,

the Invocation was heard and answered.

I'm coming. I'm coming. I'm coming...

I'm here,

but what's next?