Salutations, vile prison guard, you have separated me from the dying oak,
Furthermore, denied me my kinfolk, and my final resting place has been revoked;
The years of the living, have come back to me now,
With every stare and camera flash, my dignity is being disemboweled.
My marker now stands beside me, in a brazen baring of disrespect,
My security denied, propped behind glass for all to inspect;
My limbs can not move, I can not escape,
But with the aligning of the heavens, a curse I can undrape!
Death has already begun, with the man who unearthed my bones,
Now Curator, the Man-on-High, will also be dethroned,
The shattering of my box, I am a demon with wrath,
Dragging you shrieking and convulsing, into the clutches of Hell's path!
Note: This is a continuing story. Part I and II are also in my collection on this site.
