Necropolis

The cradle of all the ages of Death
The city of rottenness, disgrace and miasma
Where silence welcomes its newcomers
That will remain in the eternity

Marble and ceramics await the arrival of Death
The future larvae feast
Only an inert expired skin wrapped in wood
Sealed and away from everything he once knew

Hostel of dry, old and yellowed bones
Letting the time turns to dust
To be just a vague memory
In the minds of its next inhabitants

Necropolis, great city of the dead
Destination of all being, stubborn or acquiescent
Wait patiently the reality of Death
To lock in its vast space, another inert coffin