Laying in my coffin,
but I am not dead.
Yet, all of the eulogies;
have been read.

I listen as my loved ones,
cry over my corpse.
I try to cry out,
with force.

But, no sound comes,
from my lips.

Some evil holds me,
within it's grips.

The lid to my coffin,
is closed one final time.

Why am I being punished,
what was my crime?

I feel my oxygen leave,
as I take each breath.

Soon I shall suffocate,
and I welcome my death.

I listen to the sounds on the
lid of my coffin;
as I'm buried with earth.

So different from the memories;
of my birth.

I imagine the maggots and worms upon,
my skin.

A shudder convulses me from,
deep within.

I struggle once more taking my final breath;
in defeat.

Only to find my legs tangled,
within my bed sheet.

With relief I am finally able to scream.

I cry out in joy  that;
it was only a dream.