PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Here I lie – I’m cold

Drowning six feet under death.

There’s dirt inside my coffin,

And corrosion on my breath.



My thin and rotting skin,

Gives in – slowly - to decay.

My solid bones deteriorate,

Day, after morbid day.



Dead – With no existence,

I’m trapped inside my Hell.

Fiery demonic nights,

Cause my senses to swell.



Inhale smoke and ashes,

Get burned by acid rain,

Decapitated inmates,

Are forced to live in vain.



Smell the burning bodies,

And stare into Satan’s head.

This is what it feels like,

When you’re living – While you’re dead.