Walking On Graves

Darkness releases the shadows to hide.

The battle’s been fought, thoughts have died.

Mindful of steps that beckon beyond

The graves with no voices that cannot respond.

Pain surrounds and walks close at hand.

Only agonising madness is left to stand.

Escape is fiction, there’s nowhere to abscond.

Except to silent graves, that cannot respond.

Trapped within a mind that sees no good.

Now only suffering where happiness stood.

A sorcerer is needed with a magic wand

To give voices to the graves that cannot respond.

Once there was beauty where now ugliness stands.

Time was a treasure that ripped through the hands.

Imagination was suffocated by billowing fronds

That grow on the graves where no-one responds.

No-one was someone one sunny day,

But life came along and swept them away.

Dreams vanished as the guns were fired

And the graves swallowed the bodies of those that expired.

Pass not a grave with the head bowed down.

Salute the dead with a smile, not a frown.

Graves hold the living along with the dead.

We all walk on bodies wherever we tread!

© 2016, Danny Kemp. All rights reserved

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About Danny Kemp

I was at work one sunny November day in 2006, stopped at a red traffic light when a van, driven incompetently, smashed into me. I was taken to St Thomas' Hospital and kept in for a while, but it was not only the physical injuries that I suffered from; it was also mental ones. I had lost confidence in myself let alone those around me. The experts said that I had post-traumatic stress disorder, which I thought only the military or emergency personnel suffered from. On good days, I attempted to go to work, sometimes I even made it through Blackwell Tunnel only to hear, or see, something that made me jump out of my skin and that's when the anxiety attacks would start. I told my wife that I was okay and going regularly, but I wasn't. I could not cope with life and thought about ending it. Somehow or other with the help of my wife and medical professionals, I managed to survive and ever so slowly rebuild my self-esteem. It took almost four years to fully recover, but it was during those dark depressive days that I began to write. My very first story, Look Both Ways, Then Look Behind, found a literary agent but not a publisher. He told me that I had a talent, raw, but nevertheless, it was there. His advice was to write another story and that I'm delighted to say, I did. The success of that debut novel, The Desolate Garden, was down to sheer hard work, luck, and of course, meeting a film producer.
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One Response to Walking On Graves

  1. A beautiful well deserved tribute to all the hero’s that have given their life for all.
    Well penned Danny, as usual. :o)

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