Diggin a hole in the mind to bury the shovel, yet how in the fuck am I gonna cover it six feet beneath a pile of soil that can not move itself?
The trench is ready n what lays in it will never dig me open again, for I am as numb as comfort can be still n tryin to figure a way to spill the dirt down upon the last bit of daylight felt.
The black tomb needs to close to finalize the deed that needed to be done, as the confusion settles in on the thought process to quickly hide what's been dropped viciously below the face of land flattened. Unmarked n shoved into time never to be known by anyone, it's lost it's chance to plead it's way out of the darkness enclosin in on where it use to stand as hands will push in on what happened..
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