My Master is Watching the Screw

Speed in an elipse. Working through an eclipse. You see me up in the stands in the back. It is a hook attack. It puts me down in the center. I just observe as some skate closer. A red rose drops on the ice then 2 and three. Blood drips from my nose on every rose and on the white of ice. I fall back and a pillowed lining welcomes me. I awake, in a coffin, at a funeral that the picture is not me. I guess that is all I am to anybody. He shuts the top from across the way. I wake in his sarcofigus today. In his arms I play The River in his head.