Five Zero

Dreading it like death...
Another year of becoming nothing...
Empty...
Fat...
Alone on the phone but nobody's speaking...
Oh death, do you have to whisper sweet nothings?
And how could you whisper sweet nothings to nobody?
A ghost among the living...
Deep in a dark forest...
Unforgiven...
I swallow down a forever sleep...
When Morpheus arrives it's then I will glide...
On the wings of a pig not Pegasus...
To a shit pit of mud and worms.
Germs.
Gobble me up so I don't reach the day ...
I turn 50.

Maculate Macabre

Eyes plucked out like feathers..
Drift upon the wind...
A sea of sequelity unable to live up to expectation...
Only looking into the hour glass from outside the hour...
Without a minute to spare..
Spores of tendons bounce to the beat of the dead drum...
Leeching lessons of festive nonsense...
Alienation like no nation of Trumps and puppets...
Seize the quintuplets and even though the five are alive,
It's not the number of completion...
Brain cells swirl into infinity...
Dark matter is the divinity...
While the blood runs black as night...
Oozing from every orifice...
Purple haze...
In a daze...
As the life drains out into the monstrosity sealed within this skin.
Bathed in dread.
Maculate.
A beautiful macabre.

Left Behind

Left behind like food that wasn't eaten...

Wasted after being tasted...
Cut off from crucial source of sustenance...
Spoiled, soured rotting..a benevolent being of abandonment....

Oh decay, I say, must you sit and wait so long?
Whilst the throng tramples upon the maggots...
And faggots...as in logs not homosexuals idiot...
Burn at light speed...

Beautiful colors of fascination...creation...
Ashes to ashes... one mustn't strife...
For dark as death...it brings one life.