The Farmers Daughter

The wind whistles past my ear as I finish up on the farm

The fields of corn are eerily quiet and still

I grasp my pitchfork in my arm

and stop in my tracks when I hear a shrill

My hair stands up on end as I peer into each stable

The horses are calm and sleeping

I run my hands down the barn labels

Whipping my head around to a loud bang I start reaping

The hay has taken a beating, but no one is around

I stumble over the door, heart beat thumping

I look over my should as I slam the door backdown

Frogs in the pond start jumping

I walk to the waters edge pitchfork still in hand

The toes of my boots nick the water

The hairs on the back of my neck stand

I slowly turn around and see a spitting image of my daughter

But that cannot be her, she died years ago

I walk towards her tears in my eyes

She looks beautiful with an airy glow

That is when I start to notice the flies

Her chest has a gapping hole

Flies glide up and down her torso

Her eyes are sunken and coming out of her back is a pole

Her lips do not move, but in my head I can hear audio

The lullaby I used to sing her fills my head

She grabs my hand and I freeze

The song plays faster and faster filling me with dread

I fall down to my knees

I look up at her one last time knowing this is it

I did not protect her like I was supposed to

Death is here and I must submit

My time on earth is much overdo

She grins at me and out of her mouth falls blood, bugs, and teeth

I close my eyes waiting for the final blow

My body turns ridged as she pushes into my chest the sheath

The coldness envelopes me and my heart slows

Her shriek fills the air haunting whoever returns to the farm