A white rose, a gold casket, and a field were all you'd let yourself take in.
It was the fourth of October, 2008,
And you had stopped crying.
You were surrounded by those dressed in black, you yourself wearing a nice dress and his necklace.
Your brain was on high alert and yet you were calm, almost as if nothing fazed you.
Not the smell of the ground,
Freshly dug up in the cool, hard Earth of the autumn time,
Nor the sound of your own mother crying,
Allowing the tears to flow down her cheeks while she says a few words about her husband; now widowed.
A white rose, a gold casket, and a field were all you'd let yourself see,
The rest just a blur of movement and scenery.
You sensed the touch of your uncle's hands on your shoulders,
And could hear him sniffling,
Mourning the loss of his brother.
His grip was tight, almost as if he was afraid to lose you too; almost as if you were the only thing he had left of his dearly beloved brother.
You could taste the bitterness of the words your mom had said to you the day after he died: "daddy died", those words being repeated over and over again in your mind,
An infestation of thoughts and language.
A white rose, a gold casket, and a field,
The rose you were holding in your small, fragile hands;
The rose you were gripping so tight blood started pouring from your skin as the thorn punctured your tiny little fingers;
You did not notice, you did not choose to notice.
You threw the rose onto the casket as it was being lowered six feet under.
The casket with him in it.
His hair was brushed back, his black and white suit on, and his eyes firmly shut...forever.
It's done.
He's buried.
The field he's now buried in is covered in a thick fog, similar to that surrounding your mind.
And as the car arrives to take you back home,
You can almost hear the wind whispering for you to come back and visit and although you've finally left the scene,
All you can picture are a white rose, a gold casket, and a large, foggy field.

casket, casket, buried deep, will you ever let me sleep?
rising inch by inch to the top of ground, let out that beast that sleeps so sound.
poking, rotting, stench filled air, shall you occupy dying despair?
without a word, up forth it springs, to the madness that my heart still gleams.
crazed and cursed for ever more, you will decompose way before.
maggots squirming, loss of life, this is something made by a knife.
keen and sly it slips so nice, from under your chin it was a slice.
draining red no more, soaked and breathless upon the floor.
"why?" you ask, we'll never know.
falling faster ,faster for hells repour.
sticky, slimey cavern walls, over and over the calmness calls.
she lost her mind and found a pill. taken before against her will.
now she writhes and moans only to gurlge on that pink foam.
fading darkness coming fast, never did she think it would be her last.
now the demons tear and bite. each one overjoyed by her fright.
choking, coughing unable to breath, he sat up with liquid running down his sleeve.
razor clipped tendons from wrist to rut. an elbow bent like a ***** ****.
draining, pale, eyes rolled back. now its time to hit the sack.
another one found that their dying breath was nothing more than a **** fest.
painted senseless, it never to be told. lied, cried, denied, inside, confide.
let out that evil sin so i can make you live in hell again.
the devils might, needed no more, yet watching me from below the floor.
gripping, grabbing, groping, nothing to hold. not even a light in all the void.
wither, wasted, wonton, worthless flames flickering among your decrepit names.
say it once to me now! now again! i say. let me hear you forget to pray.
casket, casket buried deep...will you ever let me sleep?