I have seen your grave,
From the patterns in the pine
To the silken lining which will engulf your body, I have seen.
The stone used to mark your final resting place,
The moisture of the ground in which you remain,
I have felt.
The stench you will leave within,
The stages of your undevelopment,
I have known.
I have seen your cells break apart and decay.
I have known the brittleness of your fragile bones.
And I have seen you forgotten,
Buried beneath millions of years of life
Continuing without you.
And in looking at your face,
I have seen my own.
