When I'm in my casket, I feel no sorrow
I feel no rush, no pain, nor even horror
I feel no remorse for the hearts I've torn
I'll just sleep away, and let them mourn
For many years my corpse to dust and pass,
As the world turns and burns, then turns to an urn of ash.
When I'm in my casket,
Arms crossed like wooden woven baskets
Although the death was utterly drastic
My soul still lingers like unwanted plastic,
Haunted, flows like ripples within an ocean
I'm not in the dirt, I'm in your head
Dreading the words I've ever spoken.
When I'm in my casket, I feel no pain or sorrow
No rush, because there's no tomorrow
Fear no horror for the mournings of the morrows,
For I've lost my dearest, and my morals
But I do, however, thank you still for the life I've had to borrow.
YOU ARE READING
Introspect
Költészet(2017-19) "Here lies the dark thoughts and words of mine. We may be real; We will one day seize from existence. But a thought, intangible and imaginary, is beyond reality and may never die unless ignorance behold us. So although we'll one...
