deepundergroundpoetry.com

Digger of the grave

I'm here before the mourners come
Before the first tears shed.
I make a home, An eternal home
The occupant is dead.
 
In my hands I hold my trade
A spade is all I need.
Like a farmer in the spring
The coffin becomes the seed.
 
When the ritual draws away
From the shadows I'll make my way.
No words are said, No bow of head
No stopping of the day.
 
The nameless, faceless humankind
Is in the home I made.
My name is absent from my work
The digger of the grave.
Written by sir_cedric_cedric
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 3 reading list entries 2
comments 4 reads 751
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
COMPETITIONS
Today 7:50am by WillowsWhimsies
POETRY
Today 7:09am by Abracadabra
COMPETITIONS
Today 6:53am by ClovenTongue34
SPEAKEASY
Today 6:30am by SweetKittyCat5
SPEAKEASY
Today 6:16am by SweetKittyCat5
COMPETITIONS
Today 6:10am by Honeybeevee