We lay breathing beside the mausoleum
our bones covered by dirt
speckled with diamonds and grime
how precious we could have been
how little we realize within ourselves
our bones are cut from the same gem of life

He gardens us into peaceful beds
so that we may bloom as we slumber
looming over velvety prisons
stretched as far as the eye can see
He grasps his mighty scythe
and slashes our stems for The Harvest
so that we may be set free