Bury Me

Bury me. Bury me. Confine me. Come find me in a box. Underneath salted earth; with happy ideals and reign over vanity. Greedy lust I cannot desire. No, no longer. Sweet oxygen remains on my side. Deplorable sentience is the very state that furls my skin. Initiation into madness and sin is what caused mine tongue to mute archaic wisdom. Confine me yet. For my consciousness has not fallen prey to disease or decay. Biological tragedy describes thee; me. Bury me here then now. What concern is it of your lord? Confine your conscience, consciously. Then maybe you will meet the one and only, yes only, maker. Further description is not required. No. Come find me in my box. Humanity's transmigration shall continue as ordered.