Bury me in this cold earth and let all the other dirt of the world
Choke on my ashes, spit on my grave, devour me like the worms and
Maggots plaguing my heart, feasting on the tubes and chambers.
Headstones bleeding into the mist; two hands clasped in prayers or
A million bony middle fingers.
Tumour-rotted and ready to sink into this nothingness, I see
Tortured souls crucified by human nature, seduced by
A medication of meaningless memories, they fall into their
Beds of stone and sorrow
And leave me standing like a tribute to their
Highest hopes and lowest moods.