She has spent some time wondering
where there lies a guiltless, painless escape
-from this madness-
but the truth is,
she already has it figured out.
There is none.
At least, these concepts cannot co-exist;
and if she needs to let go, then
a harrowing penance must be
The thought of being buried alive
has always left her terrified,
such a level of suffering
that sounds almost unfathomable...
and so she's found her proper exit toll.
(the price has set itself too high,
but anything is better than remorse)
So she will dig, she will dig
her own grave
though sadly, no one will ever know...
because my shovel will be buried with me,
like a long-forgotten