The old structure sat lifeless
Just like you did on that final day
The ephemeral spectacle of you
In your grotesque state of decay
It's still there...
...still frozen in it's gasping throes
The walls are cracked outside
They crumble from within
The floor is stained with bloodied hand-prints
As we crawled desperate within
I'm still here...
...still wandering in this horrid stasis
You can't see me, though
Or maybe I can't see you
I do see your rotten memory, however
Sitting decomposing in dusty sunlit gloom
I managed to make it to the woods
And collapse in an earthen trench
Nobody's cared to remove my remains
Just as you stew in your own growing stench
That's why, if you linger here somewhere
You are not haunted by my waste of demise
But since my soul is bound to our forsaken home
I have to watch your body never rise
Where did you go?
Do we exist parallel?
Or have you ascended?
And this is my private hell
I can't see you
Oh, my God, I can't

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