Amongst The Dead

Rip my flesh rotten
I am inside so often
my bed a glib coffin;
but crucifixes soften. 

Talk well of the dead
at a grave sight night
falls upon mourning
on a face tears fight.

I weep a sorrow grab
do sweet tunes sway
in an a cappella voice
evict saddness away.

Turn off the switch to
rest our eyes bed find.
So in a creeping dusk
rejuvenate does mind.

Gone from the ground,
steps directly profound,
now our faces do frown
at loss our lives found.

No surprise is a hurt a
pain so vivid for today.
My previous one I can’t
correct so I turn away.  

So toss flowers the air
it awaits a little beauty.
While a reaper roams
land in bountiful duty.

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