Poem and drawing (existential horror)

Poems, Songs & Prose 13 USD
Job 5 of 9
On my shoulder I carry my own coffin,
A hole has been pushed through my back, not a hump.
It will pull me underground, absolutely wordless,
The soil will swallow everything, it has many mouths.

Like a corpse, I walk along the walls,
Bending under the burden, forgetting everything.
I am useless, I will leave no trace,
Something might grow on the grave in the light.

Bury me deeper, this is my fetish,
In mud and worms I am freer than before.
Roots will sprout, embrace gently.
My fears will go away, and so will hope.

The longer on the road, the lower to the ground.
There is plenty of space, enough for all of us.
A silhouette adorns the gravestone,
Of those who are gone. We will not hear their laughter.

#poetry #drawing #photomontage #photoshop
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