The Funeral Poem by Brian Routh

I could smell the sweet, acrid, pungent, sickly smell of death
the smell of flowers, coffee, cake, mourners and tears
lavender hung in bunches about my vision
shadows seemed to grow and spread an icy gloom across the world
I shivered in the cold but had no body to hold
I felt in the grip of some mighty gush of wild uncontrolled energy
far greater than I have ever felt before
it was raining and the trees in the cemetary were bending and rustling
the wind howled and whined
the mourners like shadows hung in space
as a great shadow began to make it's way from the east
everything was still and silent
the people standing there so still, quiet and fixed in some other world
I could hear their hearts beating
and their shallow breathing
a bell tolled and a dog barked
oh! what a strange feeling to be among the dead
what a tragedy to have died
to have lost my body
my memory fades
I was amongst the mourners
I had no physical power
no way to make my presence known
their grave faces frightened me
their expressions tired and fraught with suffering
their faces distorted and twisted
blue and red lines of light shimmered around their eyes
their breath hissed from them in gray, green, purple steam
speckled with silver flashes
thunder rumbled
the rain fell in solid sheets of water
lightening zig zagged through the clouds
a mighty battle had begun
with guns exploding and voices violently screeching
a flaming, smoking, gale force wind poured from the mouth of a gigantic dragon
it appeared and circled in the sky
the mourners did not notice me
did not see me
they are lost and concentrated on the same spot on the earth
I wander alone with heavy chains that weigh me down
they clang and disturb the stillness but no one hears