• Six feet under they lie
    As many people just pass by.
    They are all ice cold
    Some even covered in mold.
    Marble is all that that is seen
    Unless you are quite keen.
    With a sharp eye and quick wit
    Thou shall see it.
    The wondering of their souls
    Not just the flight of crows.
    But their souls wondering
    Some even cowering.
    While some hold hate
    Others are nothing more than quaint.

    Through some’ s perspective
    Especially those who aren’t very respective.
    See nothing but rocks
    They don’t even know the ticking of their clocks.
    That soon they will join six feet under
    No matter how much they seek to plunder.
    They see no souls
    Only the crows.
    Caring not of the cold
    Or even the mold.
    Thinking nothing is there
    While the souls just stare.

    Through a soul’s perspective
    It could be quite effective
    To better understand
    What it’ s like to be under the land.
    A soul floating free
    Has nothing to see,
    For every time they get near
    Everyone runs in fear.
    With no where to run from cold
    And the mold
    To be alone
    And not be shown
    The path toward the light
    So they may give flight
    To this life
    And all this strife.



    If humans could only comprehend
    What waits at life’ s end.
    When we must send
    Our souls to mend.
    And do nothing but attend
    Death’ s party at the end.

    “Dear humans an ear could you lend?
    Fore death is not the end.”