In shadows cast and tales untold,
Lies the fate of mortal mold,
Do you know what happens then,
When life's breath departs, and death does begin?

After three days, the nails retreat,
From fingertips, their purpose beat,
And four days gone, the hair decays,
A crown of life now lost, always.

Five days pass, the brain's demise,
Once teeming with thoughts, now silent skies,
And as six days fleet, a gruesome sight,
The stomach...