my soul is buried under snow

my soul is buried under snow,
and grass and dirt that's piled so high,
beneath where every man must go,

under the dirt that will not show
the wooden box where hushed he lies,
my soul is buried under snow

within the wood, and though I know
he cannot feel that chill, I cry,
beneath where every man must go,

when one no longer shrinks or grows,
he rests and shrinks away his eyes,
my soul is buried under snow,

together with the flesh I know,
that's left its bones so cold and dry,
beneath where every man must go,

I too have gone before I go,
for I can't look upon the sky,
my soul is buried under snow,
beneath where every man must go.

(C)2009, Christos Rigakos