Buried Alive

No air can reach through that,
nothing gets past soil
pressed into its brown wet self
and densening in the downward weight of
No force can push through that,
you might want to bloody a few nails
strain back, knees and shoulders raw
in the dark box of this enormity.
No avail.
No sound can rise through that,
try your lungs until the time of breath is past
time will go slowly, time will go fast
and neither matters.
This is the end of all banality
the ultimate finality,
the big one
at last



















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