Is it cold where you lie,
listening to the scratch of your companions?
Or do the newly turned sods keep you warm?

Does the dark hurt your eyes,
stinging the lids and bringing a tear?
Or are they closed against the hidden grain?

Can you hear the words he speaks,
words chosen for mourning and comfort.
Or is it muffled beneath the turf?

Do you taste the air,fresh and new.
or are you choking on fetid breaths?
Do you feel the fire in your lungs as you gasp?

Did you feel the fingers of death upon your shoulder?
Or did he whisper into your ear, enchanting you, making you
fall to your knees with his trickery?

Do you remain there, blackened and anguished?
Or do you run free, amongst the stars and moon,
trailing your tale behind you?

I wish i knew.