Urn of remorse

When my heart ceased beating,
the moon witnessed no wisp of soul escape as I gasped for breath.
In my shallow life I seeked depth but fleeting
was my sin as I drowned in my own debt.

And all I’ve lived, I’ve lived alone.
I’ve carved neither treasures nor crowns to my name.
Morals nor children, I never had
so I solemnly linger in the urn of the dead.

As the dirt whispers to the blades of grass
for the Sun to not shine upon my shadowy past,
I long to toss and turn
for my widowed self
as dust carries screams of discontent.

I await your knock
fully aware I’m a coward.
For I was burned in this life
and I will burn in the other.
I’ve drowned in my sins
and I’ll drown like no other.


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