This World, At Times, Is A Death Shroud

This world, at times, is a death shroud. So many chores must you follow. In chains peddling your pedalo As though it is destiny ploughed To die in abstinence of life And to drown in compound sorrows Many protracted tomorrows We're dreaming of an afterlife. Oh, and wave after wave we fight. To survive, then drown in a tear A broken heart frozen in fear Trapped in a cave, like dolomite Sedimentary existence Hoping for one day to be found Refined into a gemstone round And at someone else's insistence And find a good reason to wake Draw back the curtains and give thanks. And sing loudly from your larynx. Never again feel so opaque.