Sunday, January 20, 2013

The Poem Of Us.

I thought the ghost had been settled by my love;
The zombie healed by the same.

I saw hide nor hair.
I breathed easy.
But it was too soon.

Displaced and replaced.
I felt the chill.
Heard the cry.
Saw the darkness.

Displaced and replaced.
The undead is coming.

It's my fault.
Aggravated by my hints.
Obvious hints of false forgiveness.

The ghost felt the chill.
The zombie heard the cry.
The undead saw the darkness.

It lied too.
At fault for false apologies,
Misdirection and the wrong remorse.

No contrition?
No redemption!

The ghost is not welcome,
But it must stay.
I will not heal the zombie;
For it did not heal me.

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