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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #1925831
Death- no one will even notice.
Lo! What a dreadfully hideous sight,
  Thy pallid, unconscious body-
Murdered right 'round midnight,
  Tho’ thy spirit, 'tis disembodied—

In a crimson casket, thy body was lain,
  Slumbering within crimson velvet and black lace,
Tho’ soon, in an aphotic, gravely domain,
  Everlasting shades of grey painted thy face—

The stench of acrid decayed flesh roamed thro’out,
  And insects began corroding thy jacket—
Whilst lifeless cadavers aimlessly wandered about,
  Attracting grotesque worms, and maggots-

Thine obituary, says nothing of thy death,
  Just thy frail body, a mere rotting corpse-
Simply one word, ‘tis all that is left-
  O' the blood, the crimson gore,
Lo- thy frail life is but a mournful death-
      Ah! Nevermore..
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1925831-Nevermore