Buried Living

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"You, you had killed
My kith and kin
Atleast once."

I was resting, yes,
A bit long it was.
I was on a wait
For the time right;
For that time to wake.
But they did take
Me, to a coffin of wood.
They misunderstood
Mine an eternal sleep.

They bathed me,
Wore me new robes.
I hoped, but to vain,
'Time to wake isn't afar.'
Nice a lay it was
In the coffin's cushions;
The coffin I mistook
A royal bed of luxury.
Crowned I was
With flowers and fragrances.
But I used a courage
To stay asleep.
I sued in me the strength
To wait for that a time right.
Candles of warmth
Were lit around.
And none crept wept
Nor smiled in joy.

But happy I was,
Cozy I felt,
For I didn't smell
The bloom of burial.

But then it quilted:
Darkness.
Pitch black murkiness.
I didn't know why,
But now I know
They thought me dead.
I feared.
I screamed.
They didn't hear.
I knocked on the top,
But the deaf were deaf.
Something in me
Wanted to cry out loud;
But not me.

I felt a change
In Pascal's pressure.
And then I knew
The weight of mud.
And then I knew
Suffocation.
And then I knew
The strong and sharp:
The end of me,
Death.

I opened my eyes
In the heavens.
So many like me, I saw;
So many the mankind
Have abolished
And ignored.
And I knew, my name
Was no different
Than theirs.
You, you had killed
My kith and kin
Atleast once.
And you know me.
I am a dream;
Now a man's dead dream.

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