They spoke of this embrace
Bones [bad word] below
The weight of clay
And waters transcending
Among stones and roots
Cleansing my soul
From the chains
Of mortality

I exist in an isthmus
In my own continuum
I lay still
In the most dreaded of waits
One sound would eradicate me
From this unmerciful womb
And lead me to eternity's gates
The divine seven gates