What is this? <br />I think as I awake <br />thrust from a most gentle state <br />into what I can only presume <br />to be some sort of abject tomb. <br />Made of ice, encased in stone <br />pressed with ice that chills my bones. <br />And as I curse this foreign land <br />I feel its weight, my bending hands. <br />And release it now that grim eyes see <br />I have room to move, almost placidly. <br />But wait! I think, short for breath, <br />It descends again- I’m compressed by death! <br />And so this cycle carries on, <br />Through lonely nights and cruel ‘morns, <br />until feebly resolving- I <br />will end either here or in suicide. <br />So I grasp the lid of this cursed enclosure, <br />yet feel my gnarled hands freeze over! <br />Freer than before, but still encased <br />as the lid descends upon this wretched place. <br />And as I make one last attempt, <br />I feel so close to freedom, yet, <br />what is this? It occurs, quaintly, <br />in my brain- ticking faintly- <br />as I try to stand and flee, <br />my coffin moves parallel to me! <br />And as I fall back to the ground <br />without hope, nor breath, nor sound <br />I know escape is futility, <br />my frozen prison... is entombed in me.<br /><br />Current NinetyThree<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/entombed-2/
