The Creature

With each footstep of hope, descend into the hole,
The water wicking up, now pulling at my soul.
And flung upon my back a bag of ashen bones;
The closer that I get, the louder grow their moans.
I stand within the grave, a tightness in my chest,
My heart beating so fast, and all I want is rest.
And then I’m thrown inside, and buried while alive
And I can only feel the draining of my life.
But while I’m in my tomb, my skin begins to split,
A thing had grown inside and now no longer fits.
A creature soon comes forth, naked but clothed in blood.
It takes my heart and mind, then reaches through the flood.
Its hand enclasps a wrist, which holds it sure and tight.
And with a pull so swift, it brings it to the light.
Emerging from the crypt, the creature starts to change.
Abandoning its host, freed from its fleshy cage.
And then at once I see through its fresh, virgin eyes
And feel its beating heart that once had beat as mine.
I stood upon the grave, where I had stood before,
But in a body new and different in my core.
Then of a sudden flames surrounded my new flesh,
Embraced me as a dove, then left me, pure and fresh.
I grabbed the ferrous rod and closed the gate behind,
And with my first new step, began the gruelling climb.