Rigour MOREtis

Dirty eyes see no future
For they are clouded
Shut out from nouns, verbs and adjectives

Every breath brings me closer to the final one
I'm curious though how recycled air must taste
For in this pine box
It's dwindling

I remember when it came to a grandiose conclusion
I felt nothing at all
My spirit decided to stay within and not observe
The aftermath
The tears
The rain
The sorrow

It's better off that way
For everyone knows
There would always be that one asshole at your funeral
You wouldn't want there