Watery Grave
I sparkle and
burst into flame.
The winds leave no mark
of my ashes to claim.
While losing the linchpin of my body,
resulting in vaporization,
disarray engulfs my land
until I’m decomposed from composition.
I should be unborn.
This world fills me with remorse.
Corpses over corpses honor the dead’s tears
at the tomb with no guide
in which I reside.
Dishonor leads me lost and astray,
and this world is a wasteland—
a watery death of disarray.
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