Finally.
A place to rest my corpse decrepit,
Decomposition be so rapid,
My ribs are slowly penetrating
Convulsing chest.
The foul smell of gruesome fossil
Which I'm becoming, strikes my nostrils.
I try to sit, my spine collapses.
It wasn't meant to last as axis.
My blood runs dry as fast as spirits.
Evaporating, I can hear it.
As long as I remain on this plane,
I'm cursed to go through all of this pain.
I've given up on my own carcass.
My body's but a fleeting mass
Of flesh, and bone, and vivid liquid
And weird thought, and foul gas.
I quit. I'm out. I have quitten.
But in the land of sense forbidden
There is a treasure that I've hidden
And there you take, forever beating,
My burning heart, to ever last!
Obviously, not Poe. But it came to me by itself, on the run, practically exactly the same way I publish it (since redacted). Feels like I must.
Lhommage a Edgar Allan Poe. Angles
© Copyright: Джой Бой, 2023
Свидетельство о публикации №123040303679
Свидетельство о публикации №123040303679
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