Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

Reanimated

A morbid piece.
It about a man that accidently kills a little girl in a hit and run, and burys her body in the crawl space. She then comes back to life (Figuratively) and he is filled with so much guilt he takes his life.

This is Reanimated

Glancing into the eyes of death,
Or what appears to be dead.
From beyond the grave,
She is getting her revenge.
You think you can escape,
With evidence in the crawlspace.
But, not anymore.
It’s at your back door,
Pounding,
Just like you heart on that day.
Digging,
To make the guilt go away.

Hands soaked in blood,
But, you washed them that night.
Cause that blood is still there,
In gods sight.
Her death may have been an accident,
But, her forgiveness is nonexistent.
This community mourns,
For the missing girl.
But, they will know the truth,
When they discover your secret world.

Glancing into the eyes of death,
Or what appears to be dead.
From beyond the grave,
She shall be avenged.
You think you will escape,
With the evidence erased.
But, not anymore.
She’s at your back door,
Standing,
With tears burning her face.
Planning,
On ending this case.

Such a sweet little girl,
You didn’t mean any harm.
But, she seeks vengeance,
As she sets off an alarm.
Her remains reanimated.
Your seal is fated.
She now controls you.
You’re engulfed in flames,
Of an invisible force,
Digging up your shame.

Glancing into the eyes of Death,
Or what appears to be your own.
A prisoner of guilt,
In your very home.
It would take an act of faith,
To make this escape.
But, not anymore.
She’s gone out the door,
Running,
Just like she didn’t that afternoon.
Telling,
And the cops will be there soon.

“She should have moved.”
“I didn’t see her.”
“I feel so helpless.”
“I wish I could save her.”
Shouting and raving,
“This life is worth taking.”
No turning back,
The guilt needs to stop.
You took your life,
Because you didn’t stop.

Glancing into the eyes of death,
Or what appears to be dead.
From beyond the grave,
She is getting her revenge.
You think you can escape,
With evidence in the crawlspace.
But, not anymore.
It’s at your back door,
Pounding,
Just like you heart on that day.
Digging,
To make the guilt go away.