Epilogue – The Emma Bruegel Project

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Endlessly slipping away from the world,
I float
midway dream and reality as morning arrives
with a memorial service,
with roses darker than black,
than ravens
and blood, the air becomes thickened as I watch on
against the backdrop of sleet
for some reason
I can’t seem to get inside the house filled with guests,
the wind
pulling me back towards the bucolic hills
where corpses lie forsaken,
in the amber glow eidolon laughs and points
as though aware of a secret unknown to me
the hills are a patchwork of mist
and silent screams,
where some travelers are more shallow
than the others
but nature doesn’t care about the deeds
of men,
in that moment I am thrown against the window
and I see my reflection
pale,
almost deathly white looking back
with hollow eyes,
just then the priest at the service speaks my name.

 

Photo credits: Priscilla Westra, Unsplash

Posted for Poems in April @ Real Toads

36 thoughts on “Epilogue – The Emma Bruegel Project

  1. Kim M. Russell says:

    This is exceptionally eerie, Sanaa! I especially love the ‘roses darker than black and the hills, ‘a patchwork of mist / and silent screams’. But it’s these lines that give me the iciest chill:
    ‘…I see my reflection
    pale,
    almost deathly white looking back
    with hollow eyes,
    just then the priest at the service spoke my name’ –

    although I would change ‘spoke my name’ to ‘speaks my name’, which makes it more immediate and also the rest of the poem is in the present tense.

    • Sanaa says:

      Ah thank you so much, Kim 😀 I must have overlooked it, I changed it just now to “speaks my name,” so glad you enjoyed it. ❤️

  2. Rommy says:

    If I were to haunt my own funeral, I’d be likely to get annoyed very quickly if everything was too somber or if the officiant made me out to be some sort of saint. I want cheesy jokes and cosplay at my funeral and I’ll use my ghostly powers to get it!

  3. Magaly Guerrero says:

    This is a chilly one, Sanaa. Not just the revealing ending, which probably adds to the scream, but the lines in between… that show us just how dangerous this world is–full of shallows and lies, of slippery spots, of life-ending secrets. Very scary poetry. I like! 😀

  4. HA says:

    Ooh, such a dark and spooky atmosphere — the buildup is so strong with a palpable energy of something out of order. “roses darker than black,/than ravens/and blood”, “the bucolic hills/where corpses lie forsaken”, “the hills are a patchwork of mist/and silent screams” are such wonderful images and motifs. The ending is spot on. *shivers*
    I loved it! 🙂

  5. Toni Spencer says:

    Eerie. I wonder too if the dead visit their own memorials. I told my husband I did not want a funeral. Just send me off to the crematorium and scattet or dump my ashes. I don’t care. Scary scarr poem.

  6. Kerry says:

    with a memorial service,
    with roses darker than black,
    than ravens
    and blood..

    The description of this memorial service is quite enthralling!

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