In the End
we all fall
between
these lines
to slumber
in echoing
choruses
our breath
returning
if only we
could breath
At our end
we all reside
side by side
in straight
parallel lines
Adorn by
your wishes
of who we
were then
soild with dirt
tossed upon
us
Lowered into
your straight
simple grave
as what persona
you have created
In the End
we all lie
between
these lines
Contained
by straight
lines carved
into the Earth
In our Ends
we're all buried
as straight as
how you wanted
Our rotting corpses
abandoned to
be inflicted with
your desired image
of who we are
When we live
So why does
your opinions of
who we are matter
if in our End
you wont approve
you'll bury us straight
In our end,
So tell me
why we care
what you think
of who we are?
If you were going
to obloquy who
we are in our
   End.