Mystery of who am I?

Feeling the soft touch caressing my skin,
calling my eye to wax dull and to fall asleep,
then I remember all my big dreams
and those who has fell lie in deep sleep.
Renting their cloth with maggots,
Filling vacuum of the silent rooms,
with no effort to put, but to lie still.
What a pity, for I know not who am I?
but for his grace ye kept me,
a dust and impure.

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