The Vision Bleak - Chapter V: The Premature Burial

Vague are the boundaries between life and death,
does your life end the moment you take your last breath?
Certain is the humid soil, the ultimateness of the urn,
does there end your mortality, who's the one to discern?

The ultimate woe, the true wretchedness,
oh the agony of a premature burial.
Lips of marble, gazeless eyed, cold as the grave,
a body that died.

Entombed into the darkness
and supposed to rot but
there is still warmth in this flesh
and the flow of this blood.

Shrieks of terror, sepulchral aghast,
ensnared in the sarcophagus
a never-ending nightmare to last.

Dark and cold, shrouds of mould,
deathless dread, envy the dead.
Lightless tomb, inverted womb,
fade to grey with tart bouquet.