The Living Dead
Massive hordes of them
Stumbling about this desolate earth
Mother Nature’s given up her children
So far beyond their origins or worth
Considered husks of their former selves
This life is ever-fleeting
Gone but not forgotten
Searching for some meaning
In phases – a sparkle of light
It raises – a glimmer of hope
The streams of consciousness gone
While they walk life’s tightrope
Nothing in the soul
Heat beneath the skin
Dousing a fiery spirit
We rush to life’s end
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