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[Inspiration from "Diary of Jane" by Breaking Benjamin] 
 
 
 
 
 
 
A simple deed: 
Pick up some milk, 
From the market, 
Beloved pendant upon my neck. 
A dark road. 
A myriad of cars. 
Sudden screeches and screams. 
All that is seen, 
Is a bright light. 
Now here I am, 
But where is "here?" 
My vacant home. 
How did I arrive? 
Oh, my pendant. 
Slightly misplaced. 
Hadn't it been hung, 
Around my neck? 
In the distance, 
My eyes spot a glow, 
My pendant is seen, 
On a stone, 
A tombstone, 
With my name inscribed. 
My arm stretches, 
To feel this cold stone, 
And obtain my pendant. 
Nothing seems to move, 
Not the dust, 
Nor the pendant, 
Am I dissipating, 
Into my tomb? 
Have I spoken a goodbye, 
But just heard silence?

The Pendant