It

It lies in 7x3 ornate box,
While infinity slowly tick-tocks,
Slaughtering insomniac sleep,

Biding its immortal time,
Insatiable thirst sublime,
Keeping bloodshot eyes on sheep.

Duplicitous smile sharp fangs,
Hush now bothersome hunger pangs.
Just a boxful of parched bone,

Void of nothingness for a soul,
Crawlies companions in an inky hole.
Callous in grave of cryptic stone.

Wayward curious passerby,
Espy "Watch your step." Wonder why?
Spiriting you to a feeding Lear.

Unhallowed ground barren,
Mortals but festering carrion.
Whoever said life was fair.