Language of the Dead

They speak in tongue,
Mortals cannot hear.
Telling of their providence.
How it led them to their doom.
Now lying in a coffin, that's come to be their room.

Confined in boxes, tombs, and earth,
They screech their stories loud.
But no one hears them,
We all walk by.
Not a soul listens to their cry.

Trying to tell us what's to come,
They tremble in dismay.
They fear for what's about to happen,
As we live our life away.

Wanting to warn us,
They shriek and roar.
They sibilate their words.
But all we do is turn our back.
We have that arrogance they lack.

Their assistance has failed,
Like our festering life.
We didn't listen to their howl.
In time all of us will die.
And none of the living will hear our forbidding cry.

** i tried a new format in this poem so tell me of you like it. It's ABCDD ABCDD ABCB ABCDD ABCDD. Incase i confused you, i mean like in most of my poems the format is ABCB...like the second and last lines rhyme..so in this one i tried it in a new way..so the last two lines rhyme in the firts two and last two stanzas and in the middle stanza its the usual ABCb format where the second and last lines of the stanza rhyme.
Alright, thankyou for reading:)