Oh, this long road seize no end.
Should I sue the contractor?

We are nowhere to be "found"
Because we are not lost.

Petrified are the hoppers who fed on all the corn that died
Terrified are the squirrels whose nuts were taken for harvest
Angry are the birds that never seems to stubble upon a worm
Hungry is the cannibal who tore my flesh and drank from my blood stream

The hoppers will cut the dry hay pasture
Squirrels will dig into poultry houses
Birds will fly to were lichen surfaces rocks
But this cannibal will hunger to death 'cause I will return,
dust to dust, ashes to ashes.

Keke!
Do you love me, would you read me?
Say you'll never return me to the shelf?

The grave isn't man's final home
Instead
The basement's door to life 3.0

From the graveyard shift of death,
We're granted a vacation of life.