From the Grave

Clawing, climbing, grasping

Dirt collecting under my fingernails enough to spike with pain

But I had to keep going

Air, I needed to breathe air

I had no idea how I'd been buried underground

But I knew if I didn't make my way above, my body would never be found

Finally I felt the dirt give way

My fingers wiggling to the sky and my palms pushing the soil away to introduce my dirty face to the break of day

Then suddenly above ground wasn't a good thing either

The sun high above my head began to grow hotter and hotter as I dragged myself out of my hole and across what I realized were ancient marked graves

As I crawled, fatigue and consciousness flowed in waves

The sun slowly continuing to char my body until my vision went black and in my body there was no movement left at all