Interrupted

A poem about people who look death in the eye daily

Follow the flies they say

When you are stalking death

Find where they lay

Follow the stench of her breath

Probe her deeper,

know her story

When the juice of death effuses

Let the ghost free

Her eyes are glazed

Like windows to an empty room

An abandoned old house

That had witnessed enough doom.

Follow the shadows

To touch darkness

Surrender your horror

To feel death’s caress.

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