His Soul Was Safe

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The coffin was growing cold,

the air was thin,

he slowly stretched his muscles,

and thought about his darkest sin,

he had not realized that the hours

between his first contact,

and the devil’s soul attack

would be so long,

it was so drawn out,

he could even hear his soul shout,

the loneliness was all wrong,

and filled with emptiness,

even after death he just had to be strong,

there was no shame in his pride,

he lightly brushed the doll likeness

of himself hanging on his side,

he closed his eyes,

waited for the cries,

hoping that will do the trick,

but the waiting made him sick,

his soul was safe,

but oddly full and thick,

as life and death had not met,

and the devil had not attacked yet,

he waited for it as he should,

but perhaps it never would,

the waiting would drive any spirit insane,

or perhaps he would just remain,

guardian of the entrance

to the dark demon’s train.

© 2011 Frank Atanacio

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