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when night obscures the course of hours, we fear what sleep might exhume
the vessel is but a breathing corpse enshrouded, entombed

my body no longer drifts in the lake of sorrow, but my spirit withers in the absence of light

shackled to the burning earth our bones are charred
my fingers seek the wretched truth my eyes seek the marks of scars

beneath the soil, find not a memory
but a tiresome existence reduced to a carcass

let them spread our ashes together beneath the dying heavens

my body no longer drifts in the lake of sorrow, but my spirit withers in the absence of light

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