Sleep (part3)

Dry bones from dust, and flesh from bones,
The sinews come, and sockets form,
The carriages of carrion are now forming
My soulless shell.

It is pulled from the grasping ground,
Most unwillingly it hovers
For a moment, only slightly
Hesitating, masquerading
As a puppet of the earthen.

Far from sealing the Casket of my Soul, you revive me.

Pulling me directly from her,
Muscles twitching from the effort,
Breaking bones in my own fingers
To loose the grasp I have on death.

Begin the sweet seduction of my wandered soul.
Entice the life back to this form.
Let joy, forgotten, move within
My fallen members with delight.