Upon My Burial

18 Nov


I sing, softly, a sad and empty melody
from here below, ‘neath tempered earth,
as I lie in this grave which I now furnish,
and have kept in stasis for all its worth.

I cry to the heavens, tho’ it cannot hear,
as if my ears would swallow the sound,
and in my reach to none but human stain,
I find odd comfort, six feet underground.

Let me wake not, that I dare not wonder
how such madness began, and enflamed,
nor ponder my position, while still alive,
that I am yet here, unknown and unnamed.

Leave a comment

Posted by on November 18, 2015 in My Poetry



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: