A raven sits on my headstone as I lie in my coffin, six feet above me the world has gone rotten.
It’s dark, musty, and completely gross down here, there’s sort of a sour, bitter smell, almost like beer.
Maggots eat through my decaying flesh, and bettles eat through my dead tissue. It’s okay down here, I’ve made it my home; being alive was more of the issue.
I do not miss my friends nor my family, but I do miss you my love! I remember when our love was as innocent and pure as a winter white dove.
At the altar you swore “Til death do us part.” Now I am dead, and you’re not mine; and it really breaks my heart.
Thanks for joining me!
Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton