Oh comfort how I long for you…
Deep in the ground is your treasure that one day I will find,
I dig for you, I labor to make you mine
Six feet deep,
Enough for when I have a craving for sleep that this is the grave for me.
Ten feet is where the reaper gives treats, and I eat with no halt to continue to dig deep.
Fifteen,
Where I find a screen that allows me to dream of the things I wish I could be,
Oh comfort how I have been blessed with freedom of worry.
Twenty,
I lack the plenty, I need to bury what's empty,
If I never go out then how can I obtain enemies, oh comfort, how you have protected me.
Thirty,
Now my hands are dirty from this digging conquest, oh comfort where is the treasure you promised?
Forty,
Has this work led to justice? Now deep in the lust, this routine is more than a custom,
Moving my bones seem to require more than mere muscle.
Fifty,
Efforts are withering, no jewel or amethyst on my crest, only an abyss for my body to rest.
Sixty,
Oh comfort, you have bewitched me. I only see light when the sun is betwixt the sides of this pit.
Oh comfort, you have given me your fruit that satisfied my lips, yet not my stomach,
Satisfied my eyes yet not my knowledge,
Now looking up to the sky, cursed inside my hole, you satisfied my skin, but never satisfied my soul.
Now the choice is mine, if I want my body to be embraced by the light…
Do I choose to climb or do I choose to die?
