Death Nesting - Death’s Last Breath

I heard the rattle within your chest, a broken hymn of unrest, a last gasp, Working its way out in dying breath… That last breath came crawling slow, like a swamp wind dragging low. Chest on fire, teeth on stone, death was speaking through your bones. You spat out words like broken glass, “Hold me steady ‘til I pass. Don’t dress me up, don’t close my eyes, Don’t let the silence break you down, lay me gently in the ground.” Rattle in the throat, fire in the lung, final sermon on a dying tongue. Rattle in the throat, dirt in the hymn, death came walking and it spoke through him. “Keep the light and kill the lies, lay me bare where the crow still flies. Tell the children I was true, and the grave won’t take what I gave to you.” Breath came tearing, sharp and wild, last words born like a fevered child. Echo burned in the smoke and flame, nothing silent, nothing tamed. Rattle in the throat, fire in the lung, final sermon on a dying tongue. Rattle in the throat, dirt in the hymn, death came walking and it spoke through him. Your chest fell hollow, thin as reed, but in that breath you sowed a seed. Every word a root, a thread, a voice that lingers though you’re dead. Rattle in the throat, fire in the lung, final sermon on a dying tongue. Rattle in the throat, dirt in the hymn, death came walking and it spoke through him. A rattle, a sigh, a broken tune, the breath you gave back to the room.