Under a funeral seizure

My heart and brain are out of order,
I felt like a hearse driving to a cemetery
All I heard are mourners, to and fro
Everything kept squashing under death assault
That sense of bad omen keeps breaking through.

Seated are all
In that service of despair
Drum are only echoing tears
Beating and beating they keep till my thought becomes a beat
My mind goes numb with all these.

And then I heard them lift a box of sorrow
And creek across my soul
Then those same boots of lead that bury one six feet deep
In a hole where space began to toll
Cover my heart with the soil of my sweat and work
For eternity with a gravestone bearing my life story on the top of my last refuge.

And all being but a sad movie of tears
Where I and silence run a strange wreck and solitary race forever.