by Pavel Chichikov
Some go down inside the tomb and stay with him
The stone is an eclipsing moon that lids the sun
With ever rounding crescent intimation till
A slit of light and then a nothing blacker – still
And smothered is the chamber of the stiffened corpse,
Unguents the stench of ceasing, sweet and coarse,
Around the doorway is the seal that covers all
With phosphor visions of the inner shrinking soul
And everyone must pass this way, there is no other
Passage from the smaller chamber to the wonder,
Narrow night and daylight is abolished, quit –
Room enough inside of death for all to fit
And now I will remain with him, the room is proof
Against the sound of pity whether harsh or soft,
Only ever wondering if light will come
That needs no seeing organ to behold a tomb
Visit Pavel's website at Grey Owl Press.
