Missa Viventium

I was 15 when I first buried her
Along with a relative
whom I barely know

While people were moaning
for the deceased,
I was burning in pain, severing
a part of me. So in the coven
I placed
a perversed concoction of feelings

15 years of incompleteness
has passed before another funeral caught me
Walking in the front of the coven
I felt oddly out of place 

Yet my heart sank with
the coven of decayed flesh. 
With every 
shovel, a piece of her was bared

And suddenly I felt the pain – 
it is as if 
my body is lain bare 
instead

ghosts of the past penetrated
me, my dignity and past

My past is my present 
and I have no future. 
for she buried it with her. 
So forever may I live
in that buried coven
With her