I had you in my heart,
The product of my loins.
I lost you in a storming sea,
Your place alarmingly empty.
I searched through the muck,
My trembling hands filthy,
Calling wildly,
Into the caging winds,
For your relieving return.
Only a patchy memory,
Within my subconscious.
Marks your life.
Your body lies in a hidden trash heap,
Of this I am confident,
My prediction overflows.
At the very bottom,
Your ripped face mustard stained,
Unrecognizable,
But for the strange lettering,
Across your zombie breast.
No comments:
Post a Comment