I can barely believe it myself.

I can barely believe it myself.

The Graveyard shift.

Am I lost

In this vast darkness

What mechanism

Will I need to strike

A gentle light

Free me of this desolation

Impetuous sprite

I can hear whispering

A guttural dis-ease

Filtered through the boxwood

It feels as hard as iron

What stark madness

Brought me so low

A blacksmith was I

Before the fall

With strength to forge

My own will

It is my marker now

Sweat and toil

Was my redemption

I stand alone

A sentinel turned to stone

Though stark in isolation

A vessel emptied

A silhouette of little consequence

A meaningless headstone

When once I milled grain

Filled a silo

Full of flour

To make your daily bread

Now I am unrisen

Pull me out

Lift me up

Use a forklift if you will

Carry me to the farm

Where the horses

Still wait to be shod

It is an image

With the power to sustain

This tomb is too dark

Paint my inside out

Use distemper

It is a whitener

And will help to

Purify my soul

It will never cleanse the stain

Of living

But will bring an end

To the insufferable stillness

Of this long night

Sleep will not come

No matter how deeply dug the grave.