Clan of Kerr

You hang lifelessly atop this murky lake
 Slowly being washed over by January water
 Drowning the dead as our past regressions are laid to rest
 Everything you were: reduced to ash
 Taking space in this velvet pouch
 Ceremoniously released, to help this selfish mortal toil
 Forced to continue moving, as the currents take you
 And the fish consume you
 Forced to become something you have no control over
 Reworked into human condition
 No reward for your servitude, unjust rebirth
 Selfish as mortal creation
 Plagued by man's conditioning to honor their dead
 You keep moving, not who you were, but what you are now
 Time falls apart, around you
 Loose sands in a liquid hourglass
 Ash becoming mud
 Your memory a murky sediment, in distant river beds
 Aging again, as if you haven't endured enough
 Becoming lye and holding on as your existence gets washed over
 You were never pure enough to cleanse this loss
 Irony becoming an acceptable consequence of birth
 It was always in your nature, dormant in our name
 Wallower, swamp dweller. Clan of Kerr