Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

A local hero came home today, but not in the popular usual way.
He did not ride on a float in a parade, but in a long wooden box painted black and gray.
He faught in a war far far away, and died there in battle on a bleak autumn day.
Now finally home on the fifth of May, to the final spot where he shall lay.

So all the town's people and most of his kin, gathered and waited for the burial to begin.
They told of his childhood and his cute boyish grin then later his lust for women and gin.
They honored his bravery and death in Berlin as his niece played Amazing Grace on an old violin.
Then as they lowered his casket down the dark hole therein...he was blessed and prayed over by the local chaplain.

Now it was done; Everyone went on home, and left their fallen hero in the ground all alone.
Then nighttime fell fast and an eerie wind moaned as it blew thru the trees and the big bullfrogs groaned.
And a freshly filled grave beneath a bran new headstone; crafted and cut by a local masone…
Was peacefully serenaded by the crickets intone in the cold night air that could chill to the bone.

Then suddenly the calming silence is broke, by two obnoxiously loud drunk country folk.
The air smelled of whisky, fresh sweat and smoke, when mixed all together could cause you to choke.
They spotted the grave and started to invoke, darkness from within; to them this hero was a joke.
They scorned the name of this brave fallen bloke as at his expense fun they did poke.

They danced on the mound of newly packed dirt, then awful vulgarity out loud They did blurt.
Quick with their rudeness; aggressive and curt; they gave no apology or showed disconcert.
They're manner was soiled and utterly pervert. They're true colors shining bright and overt.
Any kindness thrown away, mangled and subvert; destroying everything in reach yet they remain unhurt.

Then going one step further these two ignorant fools, urinate on the giant tombstone; so malicious and so cruel.
For them this crude behavior was just habitual; an almost daily practiced unholy ritual.
They're actions never well thought or intellectual, but for these two stupid lads they were consensual.
And though this merciless onslaught seemed perpetual...it remained indeed unfounded and ineffectual.

Suddenly a grissly wail echoes loudly in their ears, and the two drunk lads fall to their knees in terror stricken fear.
As the earth beneath them starts to move, a horrid sound they hear. The sound of certain doom as their fate draws very near.
Then bursting thru the dirt like a ghostly puppeteer, a cold gray hand reaches out; no longer on its bier.
Grabbing the closest drunkard; their time finally here; it pulls him down into the earth and he quickly disappears.

Then the second of the horrid pair tries to crawl away, but now two dead hands grab his ankles tight to his dismay.
They slowly pull him down below the shifting sinking clay, as the frantic man screams out in hopeless disarray.
Neither man thought they'd ever see such a dreadful day, or meet their match so swift without delay.
One final scream in agony and second drunk gives way, then vanishes below the ground and his soul is drug away.

Now all is quiet once again. It's peaceful and serene. The two young drunkards will never again be crude or oh so mean. And the desecrated hero was forced to intervene, but now can lay back down, feeble and somewhat careen…
In his final resting place nestled in between, the world he once called home and hell, where two desecrators were last seen.