Wit of the Grave DiggerA Poem by GTVileUniversal wit of the ones that dig our graves.From all nations of all time, A wit, arcane, fills each one. The men shovel stones and run, The earth inside with rock lime.
At life's closing each corpse parts, With the knowledge of closed eyes. The face wrinkled with love and lies, Each line endows the ways and arts,
Of Death's mystic well worn path, Of which ev'ry man will take. The grave digger for his sake, Learns the lesson which he hath,
The oath solemn at first sworn. To put inside the wood box, The hills around act as locks, There in secret, hides his scorn,
With the deceased; they won't talk, For all quiet days won't speak, While all fluids through pores leak, There they cannot rise to walk.
In death secrets are well kept, This the knowledge they all know, No man living lets trust go, Til the list'ner has long slept.
© 2011 GTVileAuthor's Note
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Added on March 22, 2011Last Updated on June 28, 2011 Tags: Grave AuthorGTVileMarietta, GAAboutI am. I used to be on this site back in the old days, then there was the great disaster and some of my best works were lost. My name before was GodfredtheVile, so if you were my friend, I'd li.. more..Writing
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