Pale skin, ghastly, translucent, blue.
Cold to the touch, the body withers,
Lying perfectly at rest in the casket.
Dirt piled over polished wood;
On satin and silk, the body rots.
Silence encases the eerie tomb,
Buried deep within the earth.
Here, I lie, till the maggots come
And eat away my decaying flesh.
I repose until I decompose,
The eulogy a distant whisper,
In the garden of the worms.