Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Living Death

A return to the mostly metered, spiced with rhyme, short-story style of poem.

Living Death

Gashed starvation
Strange mutation
Gushed a shambles
Wretches partly slain
A shuffled shambling
Croaks a craven, "Pray!"
Mishearing that as "Brains!"
It's quarantined away

Secluding fence
A cloven cry
Unsurely sent,,
"But what is this
And what am I?"

Missing breaths
"And yet," it thinks,
"I'm not upset"
Proposed a purpose
Meant for meaning
Seeming to
Resort to delving
Shapes into the sand

A message thus ingrained
For those that fly above
Or bask in higher planes,
"I am not a monster"
A zombie, all the same

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