beyond the grave

sometimes it seems
my father's spectre
reaches out from
beyond the grave
to clutch and squeeze
this trembling throat
so i might breathe
and speak no more
as if the terror and
the horror of that
fateful moment so
many years ago
lives on and on
and cannot ever die

he's dead near 30 years
still each and every time
that cold and bony grasp
drives me shaking to the knees

it's him, of this there is no doubt
though behind yet another's mask
i pray he has some other need
than to call me back again to hell

i cannot run, neither fight nor hide
yes, all of these i've tried and tried
there is no magic herb or potion
that can relieve this cursed spell

i've more than once too often
partook from those unholy wells
what then offered such great solace
became a vile and deadly poison

what does he try to say or do
that demands he seize me thus ?
why does he seem so unwilling
to lay at rest amidst the dust ?

i was strangled and left for dead
while just a slender lad of seven
at the hands of my late father
for a cookie that i had not stole

before i died that certain death
while dangling from his iron grip
i saw the fury of a hellish demon
where once had been his eyes

i awoke upon our tattered couch
astounded to be here and still alive
to see my father's ominous shadow
looming in the doorway there

"don't say a word !" was what he said
his voice so sharp and hard and cold
"don't say a word !" he barked again
"i will kill you if anyone is told !"

of course there was no one to tell
my blessed mum the least of all
how could i dream of risking that ?
he would indeed fulfill his threat !