It couldn't remember the time
Before, empty it felt upon the
Concrete tombstone,
Dead but not buried.
Like broken bones the wood
Broken,
Twisted,
Splintered,
Showing nothing within,
The windows vacant,
Shards like teeth waiting
For that chance to cut at
The wind, always blowing through
These lonely halls.
It has been inked, like a master
Piece of incoherent signatures,
So many have been here over time.
It wishes for an end to this decaying
Coma of non existence, It felt warmth,
It tasted what was vacant from its shell,
But now the feeling grew heat,
Scorched,
Consumed,
Relief
Of the moment engulfed, purified
You scream in peace as your now
But bright ember on the ground
Ashes to ashes you are now at *peace.