Screaming at the top of your lungs
Buried beneath six feet of hell
Clawing, digging, scratching, seething
Towards the faintest light that signs demise
Finding out it's the end
Waiting to descend
Deep embedded earthen tomb
Throes of death will consume
Alone your body shall expire
To be thrown to eternal fire
Terminal black light dies down
Reach an answer above ground
Stale lungs struggle to ask it
God help me open this casket
What has become of this impregnable dark
What says the reaper guiding your heart
On your last limb fighting back the throes of death
Heartbeat slows waiting for your final breath
Every second brings you closer to the edge of existence
Holding back, no hope, your futile resistance
Finding out that there's no afterlife
Brutal truth exposed too late
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A dramatic and thrilling read, I wonder if you would let me suggest? ? ? ? Finding out that there's no afterlife Brutal truth exposed at life's demise in appreciation of the effort.