How Death May Linger - Funeral

Uniting with the soil

Clasping the earth and its endless mould.

Preserving its soft mire

Underneath heavy lids.

Tired by the weight, of the world,

Blinded by its cruelty,

And linger in my tomb

Where none holds sway

My glistening children,

Frantic with gluttony.

With them I’ll soon have wings,

And together we will grow

Out of the earth.

And with the hot summer’s night

Thus I swarm towards the sky.

Drifting in the moist breeze,

Sweeping the earth

Like autumn leaves.

A black horde carries my name,

Nourishing on death

And drinking decease.

But before long

The coup will he of life’s irony.

Suffering a thousand deaths anew.

I’ll be raining silent and cold

Out of the heavens,

Making the world my grave.

Aeons have passed

The cycle remains eternal.

Uniting with the soil

Clasping the earth and its endless mould.

Preserving its soft mire

Underneath heavy lids.

My glistening children,

Frantic with gluttony.

With them I’ll soon have wings,

And together we will grow

Out of the earth.