Staring up at the lid
Of the box
With hollow eyes of decay
A blinding darkness
Settles
And my vision becomes based
Solely on memories
The dirt sounds like
Intermittent thunder
As it is thrown onto
The simple wooden casket
That is struggling to breathe
I scream
But make no sound
I am surrounded
By satin
I cannot feel
Its gentle touch
Or see how it shimmers
When seen in the light
I can hear the weeping
From above
My mother’s tears
Dampen the ambivalent dirt
Mourners will light candles
The glow will surround their sorrow
As they leave
Their black clothing
Will drown into darkness
I close my eyes
And can still see the lid
I become hysterical
And cannot stop
