Joining the Grave
Joining the grave, bodies whose souls discard
All the being in flesh.
Their eyes torn wide and pale, seeing nothing;
Naught known of the one shutting them,
For the angel of death harnessed their ghosts;
Wrested the spirit from their gasp.
And this crumbling lich of a man lies
Deeper, lower than dirt;
Putrefying the yellowing white wight,
Whose soul is seldom passed the flame.
To have been jostled, defiled in the cart,
Inside the coffin to his place of rest:
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