Resting Place.

We slept without breaths –
underneath six feet of topsoil,
bathed in the heavy suffocation,
of loosely strung illumination –
another silent burial site’s
flimsy paper lantern lights,
among the beloved already beneath,
primordial soup of bones and teeth –
a headstone lain down too heavily,
granite secrets kept steadily,
a lifetimes of anchors: dropped deep –
chained to my chains for all eternity,
a fate bound to a rabid Mammoth,
chained to both well-traveled,
and yellow, daisy-kicking feet,
we dreamed without darkness –
under the same stars,
that together, we once betrayed,
in a match’s quickly stricken,
enticing phosphoric display,
we struck fire to the paths –
from which we just had strayed,
never looked back, admittedly,
we ran until it all faded away,
into one, never-ending and exhausting –
ill-fated, suffocated final resting place.

3 thoughts on “Resting Place.

  1. “Granite secrets kept steadily” is a disturbing thought, to think that our secrets, unlike our bodies and even our minds, will not dissolve when we die. Instead, they will immortalized us. Well done.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Sidharth says:

    Towards the twilight of our existence when we get smothered with serenity, one doesn’t know whether our soul leaves our mortal being with a sense of pain or does it transcend into another world meditating in peace. Thanks for sharing such a beautiful post, I really liked the creativety of your thought and the way you expressed it! According to your convenience please do read some of my writings would love to know what you think about them ☺️

    Like

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