Closed

The mind stood alone isolated in the beyonds

Dull, dusted, dry, drenched from sweat, shivering

Cement filled chest, a spirit replaced with nothing

A body simply just its shell, sits still.

Staring, sitting, glaring, towards the unknown

Thoughts pulling the corpse into the ground

Tears failing to escape, a lump lingers in the throat

The head sinks into a bottomless pit, deep down, down, down.

Then stay for a while.

Gentle, dusty, dry, sweaty

The coffin is filled with stones and the spirit changes everything.

Body color is still alive.

Why not sit down

The idea is to move it to the ground.

It pours.

The head is melted by a hole into the bottom pit, deep deep down.