A Burden to the Grave

This is a description of 'bitter death', and death which is lonely as things have been left undone in the world above...

As I lie here beneath heartless stone,

My back hurts from the ground.

As the rocks torture my spine,

My heart aches, where it’s bound.

 

My bones and brittle and frail,

My body is troubled and old.

My mind ages with the company I keep,

My heart is empty; my blood runs cold.

 

My skin is pale a deathly white,

My sight distorted by the ghost.

Bugles are ringing through my head,

Wining and walling like the last post.

 

I am laden with my burden,

My back is bent by its weight.

I carried this burden through my life,

And to my death like my fate.

 

 

 

I can’t reach the six feet above,

Yet I remember a loved one’s wave.

This image keeps my company,

In the loneliness of the grave.

 

As I lie here beneath heartless stone,

My back hurts from the ground.

As the rocks torture my spine,

My heart aches, where it’s bound

 

Words above my doom do speak:

Rest in peace below the ground

Despite the torment of bitter turf,

Your salvation will be found...

The End

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