Tomb

 

My empty fate
devoid of choice
has glued me to this chair.

Evaporate
my thoughts and voice
to dwell inside this lair.

I feel the dark consuming
and I cannot turn the page.

It seems that life is dooming
me upon this lonely stage.

Contemplate
the hours passing
in this grayish veil.

As every ghost
insists on massing
where the breath is stale.

I feel the hatred booming
and the book will never close.

I sense your presence looming
with the gift I never chose.

Haunted deeply
by the day
your Death in me was clear.

In solitude
I rot away
in hopes to disappear.