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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Death · #1903880
(revised edition)
Below the surface,

Lie dead men's bones.



Rotting coffins

Hold the still remains

Of once strong men

Some who died in vain.



Buried deep

Below piles of earth

The corpses rest

Where no one can hurt.



Below the surface,

Lie dead men's bones.



Bones belonging to the young and old.

Bones of both the rich and poor.

Bones bearing bullet holes.

Bones broken revealing the core.



The corpses lie

Their eyes shut tight;

Their bodies rigid

Like a block of ice.



Below the surface

Lie dead men's bones.



The bones of kings are buried here!

... their skeletons wear their jewels now.

The bones of brave warriors doth rest below!

...rusting armour is all that's left to show.



The bones of man. woman and child!

... all descend below our feet when they die.

Bones ... bones ... bones!

Those bloody bones!



Below the surface

Lie dead men's bones.



The land is drunk

with the blood of men.

Those corpses and our corpses

A meal without end.



The "famous"

The "influential"

The "great" men of this world!

They all, end up, a pile of bones!



Below the surface

Lie dead men's bones.



Numbered among the dead,

Their last words still unspoken.

Their final resting place has been chosen.

They have succumbed to death's constant call.



Daily their numbers grow.

For everyone the end draws nearer.

The day we shall all see shall come.

When death shall finally take hold of us.



Below the surface Lie dead men's bones;

Bones that may belong to us some day.
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