Waiting 4 the Box
Four legs and a plank of wood,
soft springs and metal rings,
lay lonely confused in thought!
Mood so low,
Walls closing in;
so uncomfy, so tense, so lonely.
Locked alone;
Window open, breeze blowing through,
cold is coming, chill is setting in.
Darkness falls
The blanket is pulled;
blood starts to warm,the wood...
No longer so frosty
till...
The curtain falls
Moonlight shining through
the cold remains,
Room blue in reflection.
Time passes, blood turns blue.
The legs they are gone,
the door begins to close.
From the start in the womb,
to resting in the tomb.
Death is waiting!
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