Uncertain End

Thick darkness conquers each scrambling sense No longer sure if my eyes are closed or open If my stagnant limbs are futile, or just tense Can I compose myself if I count to ten? Whatever fate this is, who got to decide? Some God somewhere? Or the work of men. Am I still breathing? Or am I tongue-tied It remains irrelevant, only worms will hear Is it blood I leak? Or warm formaldehyde Waiting, will an apparition or vision appear? Wonders of the mind, or listless pondering soul How long will my existence remain unclear Eventuality, faithfully in control This dirt, this depth, disguises how I did arrive Do I lay here in pieces, or am I whole Am I dead.....or am I buried alive. July 5, 2022 5 stanza Terza Rima contest Sponser: L. Milton Hankins