Rows of coffins erected semetrically…. this is where peace comes to die. Names etched in small plaques have been hung carelessly… the dead must be identified.
Festering corpses… hollow shells of men whistle as the wind blows through cavities where dreams once dwelled.
The world beyond these gates is bright and unmoved by what happens here. Our existence has become meaningless… our purpose has been long forgotten.
The light that peaks over the wall keeps us conscious enough to ignore the fact that we are DEAD.
I’m writting this letter sitting up in my coffin, seemingly the only one awake. I hope that one of my peers finds this manuscript and has the courage to take his life back as I’ve decided today. This is my 2 weeks notice….