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So, you're breathing.
Your heart beats, so slow.
The pulse you see there,
giving off a faint glow.
A click, a sudder.
A final dying breath.
The flatline echoes on...
and on and on
into my nightmares.
But it is me who's living?
Laying here alone?
Who's to say, it's not a dream?
It's been over forever,
only we've yet to know.
Bury me bury me.
In the Catacombs.
Dig them deep.
Dig them long.
For I'll wake up tomorrow.
You rest.
Breaths forced out.
Heart forced to beat.
Living, without knowledge.
But hey!
Who's to say we're dead anyway!
They force you to live!
They force you to live!
Let go...
I can't stand to watch it.
Forced breaths,
forced hard raspy breaths.
they don't exist in your mind.
Bury me.
Bury me.
In the Catacombs.
If they can say you're living.
Then I can say I'm dead.
A click, a sudder.
A final dying breath.
The machines....
falter.
The machines...
they fail.
Forced breaths,
they echo.
On and on and on
Into my nightmares.
Collect tears.
and with them,
dig the Catacombs.
- by I Am Teh Antichrist |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 05/14/2009 |
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- Title: Catacombs for the Living
- Artist: I Am Teh Antichrist
- Description: I need some comments on this. Written about my great grandmother, who died in april the week I went to visit her. She was, for the longest time, my inspiration. So to her this goes out to.
- Date: 05/14/2009
- Tags: death
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Comments (3 Comments)
- firefox228 - 12/29/2009
- thats...really good...its deep...i like that
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- Ac1dBlaze - 06/28/2009
- ....wow, this has a haunting chill to it, which I enjoy! Hehehe 5/5
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- Miss Eviscerator - 05/14/2009
- nice very nice. so sorry to hear about you loss. i wrote a poem similar about my mom who died last year. check it out if you want. anyways excellent 5/5
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