Nothing Left to Bury

I dug so many holes in this ground, Lost count of the names I found. Wood and nails and whispered prayers, Dust settling on empty chairs.

Watched the sky close over flame, Watched men fold beneath their shame. Every grave I ever made — Something in me stayed.

You run out of tears. You run out of fear. You run out of ghosts After enough years.

There’s nothing left to bury now, No bones beneath my skin. No guilt I haven’t carried, No war I didn’t win. You can’t threaten me with loss, You can’t promise me doubt. There’s nothing left to bury…

It’s all been dug out.

I’ve buried love and buried rage, Buried youth in a shallow grave. Buried mercy where it fell, Buried heaven next to hell.

Men talk like death’s a blade, Like it cuts what can’t be saved. But when you’ve held the dirt so long, You stop calling it wrong.

You don’t flinch. You don’t shout. When there’s nothing left To dig out.

There’s nothing left to bury now, No secrets in my chest. No shadow left behind me, No demon left to wrest. You can call it cold, You can call it drought. There’s nothing left to bury…

It’s all been dug out.

Empty hands. Open sky. If I fall — I don’t ask why.

There’s nothing left to bury now, No cross I need to claim. No fire left to fear, No one left to blame. When the final shovel hits, There won’t be a sound. There’s nothing left to bury…

I am the ground.

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