Death Nesting - This Is My Epitaph

I’ve measured life in borrowed breath, each day a step toward quiet death. The clock don’t lie, it tolls my path, this is my time, this is my epitaph. It is a rattle in the chest, It is the silence after breath. It writes in ash, it carves in bone, time is the hymn that takes us home. This is my epitaph, four letters cut in stone. This is my epitaph, time will carry me home. Ashes fall where the hourglass breaks, names dissolve in the river’s wake. What I was drifts into air, time will find me anywhere. It don’t beg and it don’t bend, every hour meets its end. nothing left to save, time will write my story deep into the grave. This is my epitaph, four letters cut in stone. This is my epitaph, time will carry me home. Take my body, lay it down. In the silence, hear the sound. Marrow, dust, and grain. Equal now, all the same. This is my epitaph, written in the ground, time is all I ever had, and it’s running down. Time will carry me home, carved in bone and cryptograph, four words on the stone, This is my epitaph…