My rigor mortis...
Dont escavate now, my mind, its dead.
What you look for, my soul, I've led, to its grave, and let
it to stay where it belonged, from the start, it was starting to be, something it was not.
The rigor mortis had begun, long before the birth of that one, so sad to know,
it stayed so long...
so long it lingered, where it dint belong.
How hard it was, not to tell, how every second was a year in hell..
but now it doesnt have to compel, how perfectly it rests in its shell, so calm and quite, oblivion inside..
unaware of the air, it wont breathe, wont dare,
time and space, it wont have to chase...
How glad would it be, if it could see, how no longer, it had to be.