Song of the lost

Our toes are all missing
We shuffle to nowhere
We mimic the living
Can't talk but we listen

We walk the dark valley
The plants here can't grow
It is endless as we see
The ground dies while we be

We appear as on earth
We rot with the clock
The invert of birth
Without mother with girth

Our skulls rattle as we fall
When our limbs limp their last
The shattered bones of all
Sign the ground with their scrawl

We utter not a word
But muster many groans
A wail for this world
Our song is never heard