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I felt a funeral in my brain

 Emily Dickinson, 1830-1886

 I felt a funeral in my brain,
 And mourners to and fro,
 Kept treading, treading, till it seemed
 That sense was breaking through.

 And when they all were seated
 A service like a drum
 Kept beating, beating, till I thought
 My mind was going numb.

 And then I heard them lift a box,
 And creak across my soul
 With those same boots of lead, again.
 Then space began to toll

 As all the heavens were a bell,
 And Being but an ear,
 And I and silence some strange race,
 Wrecked, solitary, here.

EVENTS: Poe Funeral Goth Poe Poe Humour Kerouac Bday