That covers and shields the bed where I now lay.

Dank and putrid is this decomposing smell,

As sounds of never ending silence fill this shallow well.

Broken shafts of light zigzag and meander their way

snaking through the small burrows honed by a tiny ant today.

The damp and cold from this earthy place are beginning to take their toll,

For my skin is now ashen as the clay in which in now resides below.

The nights are now my days, and the days are my nights,

For there is no inference to what seems wrong or right.

Though this flesh does not survive and is soon to fade away,

The soul, which was my mind, now has eons upon eons to pray.

But to pray now, is to pray belatedly, and is of no imminent avail,

for there is no way, to seek absolution from this earthbound hell.

I wish now that I had listened then, when I had but the chance,

However, as you can now tell, I will forever with the darkness dance.