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  • Writer's pictureMario Mainland


Updated: Apr 14, 2020

My tongue is thick and dumb

tasting cold and bitter dread,

and arms and legs severed

so helplessly I succumb

like a bastard drifter

I retired

I expired

I'm dead.

A corpse, a dim shadow that faded

but still my legs desire walking

and though my mouth's sewn

it longs to keep on talking

of a life jaded...

of a heart's quiet caverns

of echoing empty chambers,

but it's soaked interred in mud

with worms and filth and strangers

with whom I lay and wait in vein

for Azrael to sheath his sickle--

for his blades to quell my pain

so this cadaver once not worth

a smile, your time or a nickel

can again dance in the rain

or just witness his own



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