Falling Feathers: My Poetry Book

Corpse

Glassy, cold, unclear,
Your eyes trap unshed tears.
Pain is plain behind them;
Sadness, loss, and fear.

Cracked, chapped and pale,
Your lips spill endless wails.
Your voice is hoarse and broken,
A despairing, tragic tale.

Rough, calloused, sore,
Your hands clutch a weeping core.
Pull your mask on, to hide your face,
All sunken and ashen and torn.

Broken, red and scarred,
Your bleeding heart is marred.
Love; happiness, forgotten,
As your body is burned and tarred.

Adrenaline and craze,
Your brain is in a numbing haze.
Dark ideology overloads you:
Your mind is an endless maze.

Body shattered, sleepy,
You turn your visage, so weepy.
Your hopes and dreams are long gone,

And it's the end.