He’s buried in the coffin of his own making
Six feet deep with no soul
I stand on his grave
Knee high in muddy ashes
Brown and blackened from old grief
Beneath a sky dark blue and condemning
He lies in the ground, six feet from living
Trapped in a box made so tightly he can’t get out
Knocking his head on the wood of his own perfect trap.
Buried in a heart-shaped box,
Trapped in his God-given soul
Waiting for someone to shovel on the final stones
If he could turn back time
All he’d ask for is to never be born
God save him from this misery
Love lost is nothing to bear.
Beneath this heart-shaped cover
He stews and boils over who should be here with him
But he counts his blessings he’s alone
Torment more, everlasting more, if someone came into this
Box he owns.
In the black mud and muck I stand
Over this grave this poor soul has
In the rain from the black clouds
I stand over this man
In the heart-shaped coffinFrom where you come from
So there you’ll remain
Your struggles over
Pain seeping away
They’ll be no more misery
For you anymore
I promise you that in this hell-bent storm.
Your time has come for peace and rest
The weariness you carry dropped
The mess of it all cleaned away
The beauty of death is now things are made bare
Your slate is as clean as can be
It’s like you were never there
There’ll be no more torment
Agonizing, restless nights
No more trying to make it back home
You’re buried now,
In dirt fit for kings
You lived, died failed along the way
But all that will disappear
There’ll be no more struggle
For your restless soul.
No more suffering to offer or to hold.
You’re free now, gone and
On your way
I stand over your grave
And wait for you to go away
You’re not needed now
Your time’s come and gone
Perhaps you’ll come again
Reincarnated into a better man
But till then, in days far far away
Make peace with it all
And then go away
I wish I could say it was good
But it’s the struggle we both understood
So just leave now
I’m about to bury you away
Bless you for your intentions
But unfortunately they all got awaySo ends my prayer
Over this poor man’s soul
I grabbed a silver rock
And threw it into the six foot hole
And another to join the first
Till all night came, and he was no more
I stood over this grave of
Mine
And said goodbye to my love-sick soul
Let him go with his love-sick ways
To pass through judgement for his love-wrong mistakes
I said goodbye to who I was
A love-sick man in a heart-shaped coffin.
by Don Bernal