Gaol Of Flesh

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Who knows what goes on in the afterlife? Who knows how lonely it is?

Submitted: March 16, 2014

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Submitted: March 16, 2014

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Struggling and suffering

In the chains of my own flesh.

I’m lethargic and exhausted,

But my mind feels very fresh.

 

I try lifting my fingers,

They’re the easiest by far.

But lifting even dainty things,

Felt like lifting a car.

 

I’m trapped in my own body,

A prisoner of my bones.

This darkness is eternal,

And I’m crushed by heavy stones.

 

It’s lonely and its dank in here,

And my body is made of lead.

If I knew that it would be this bad,

I’d have been cremated instead.


© Copyright 2017 TahmeedNabi. All rights reserved.

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