Maggots lace the soil,
Their pulsing white bodies,
Wriggling on the ground,
In agony or ecstasy,
No one can tell.
They came to claim the dead,
Corpses wrapped in white linen,
Saturated with decay,
A mountain of carnage,
Claimed by the Earth.
The underworld beckons them,
With splintered claws,
And a gaping jaw,
Festering with the sins of man,
Rancid and defiled.
The bodies sink beneath soil,
Their gruesome stench,
Pervading the graveyard,
A blood-soaked paradise,
For the wretched and the damned.
Their descent is harrowing,
As they claw mercilessly,
At their earthen prison,
Suffocated by the weight,
Of their eternal guilt.