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I live underground-
with fiendish hands
that reach through
the dirt and mass
grasping at a sound.

To their mile-wide glance
of white wall eyes
my lungs collapse
crumble and fold-
taken in and out of sight.

Through earthly glass
I am a broken con artist
my cries a faux pas
my skin off-brand
while somewhere
a heart beats embodied.

Amidst
this push-pull throng
speaks a long goodbye
to dead space,
bearing dead weight
down on the world-

Commodify my breath.
Call me sanctioned off.
Ship me to the doorstep
of a funeral home
where I can be buried again
in my fever-hot coffin.
One would call it a soul
forever dropping in-
from the other side.
Àŧùl Jan 9
I really-really-really wanna take you home,
Tonight - tonight - yes, tonight.
You would feel relaxed when you spend the night,
With me in my bed - in my bed.

I really-really-really make a promise to you this evening,
Tonight be unlike any other you'd ever see.
You would feel the joy when you spread your pretty smile,
Watching me sink in my bed - in my coffin.

First I'd kiss into your mind a termination signal,
A signal which is mine.
I promise it'd be painless and clean altogether,
Death comes sooner.

The blanket over us will be our gravestone,
Tonight, yes, you try dying.
Try dying tonight in peace and love,
With me, in my bed - my escape.

I promise to take you away to a realm,
Tonight you'll enjoy dying.
Die kissing the lips of immortality,
With me in my bed - my abode.
After uploading it, I saw that the shape of this poem resembles a coffin! Spooky, eh?

My HP Poem #1958
©Atul Kaushal
Man Nov 2023
Each emination,
Hot as an inferno.
The breath I let escape
Burns before it boils,
Serpent, tongue coil.
The way you worked me;
Nailed the coffin, spread the soil.
KHY Oct 2023
I wake with stone eyes that
plaster tears through my crevices;
petrifying my momentum.

I'm stuck here perpetually,
praying only to those who can't hear.
I'm a stone wall; a mountain that
passes no breeze.

I solidify in this coffin waiting
bitterly for a lovers kiss
that will never come.
for my worth isn't written on my lips;
its plastered on my obituary.
LearnfromBOBD Jul 2021
Everyone's alive are living a life like its forever
When the owner knows the expiring date laughing often like we won't cry again
Buying luxuries gadget like we are brave
Buying expensive rides like they are only reason
Building houses like they can move it
Shopping expensively, oppressively
Standing to some great feet,
Being notorious.
Your shadow lying on the floor
giving warning, 6 feet is real
Your breathe is been measured by the hours of time.
The steps your feet takes is been counted.
Your happy moments, frustrated moments, sad moments and winning moments are noted.
Your life is designated to a specific death moment
Equipped with some amount of people to attend.
You won't know the person bathing you,
No can't know the coffin carrier,
You don't know anything. Anything you own is left behind
The ant on the ground has power over you.
You became a friend to the sand.
A very long time friend missing you.
Now you know who you are
Actually nobody,
The breathe of God gives Life
Makes us somebody.
Be good and be good
Give even if it is your last
Be happy when you do.
Help even if not returned, don't make no harm
Death is not the opposite of life,
but
part of it.
Death opposite friend coffin carrier nobody own breathe shadow
SUDHANSHU KUMAR Jun 2021
Throughout the day,
He sleeps in the coffin,
But as the evening arrives,
He wakes up,
With his cunning bright eyes,
And with a spooky smile...
He gets ready in a black dress,
To hunt his prey in the midnight,
As the night gets darker,
He goes out to show his horrible might...

After finding his prey,
He smiles in a killer way,
Raising his hands above in a mystery,
As it's a sign of his victory,
Capturing his prey within him,
One who's lying below is his victim,
For him, victim's blood is as sweet as meringue,
That's why, he's ******* , ******* by his long canine fangs...
Meringue means a creamy mixture of sugar and egg white
Wilkes Arnold Apr 2021
Lives of the imagination
Loves as well
Are grieved more often
With similar despair
And greater melancholy
Than those of the world

As far as I can tell
There's closure in a coffin
It's to compare
That is folly
Those thoughts should be hurled
Or invite damnation
Alicia Moore Mar 2021
I’m interested in a free trial
to the south of soil.

Just a free trial, you see...

Resting for a while in the roots
To avoid such crushing daily disputes.
jǫrð Feb 2021
Hammered the last
Nail in my coffin
From the inside sticking out
For some unfortunate
Future soles' finding
The History: Have you ever trained your replacement?
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