Food for Worms
A musing on short, unhappy lives
It's rotten, it's rotten
But soon forgotten
The sting of flesh and blood,
The rise of truth in the mud
As corpses bloat and swell the earth
And crows cackle with their mirth
That such an omen will bring feast
Of worms and maggots at the least.
Minds waste like paper books
Left in sun and rainy nooks.
On it continues to burn and take
One more life, one more mistake
Made here and there in dark corners
Where walks too close the mourners
Of fading youth and coming dark
Reach out to press in their mark
Like a blister on a heel
Burst ripe, starting to peel.
And oh this world is much too bitter
To join the dusk as a watchful sitter
Only to find all days spent crying,
Heaving, for people that are dying
Departing, one by one before
Time should grant them more
Than pain or grief, or bleak disdain
As every hope they clutch is slain.
But with death it fades fast
And not even the dark will last.
About the Creator
Laura Lann
I am an author from deep East Texas with a passion for horror and fantasy, often heavily mixed together. In my spare time, when I am not writing, I draw and paint landscape and fantasy pieces. I now reside in Alaska where adventures await.
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Red Shelves
Death is a black hole. Think about it. A black hole is the corpse of a star, something once warm and bright, now come to the end of its life cycle. But some will argue that the cycle of life does not end with death. That death is merely another path we must walk once our bodies expire and our souls ascend. In that moment, when the fuel in the star’s chemical tank hits empty and the shiny matte coat explodes into supernova, the mass left behind – the corpse – becomes a black hole. We understand that, around such a vast cadaver, dimensions work a little differently in death to the way we’re used to in life. For example, light cannot escape the pull of a black hole when it hits the point of no return. That’s where it gets its colour. Space itself is contorted by a black hole. That’s where it gets its funny shape. Even time. Time slows right down the closer you get to it. The closer you get to a black hole. The closer you get to death.
By Matthew Curtis6 days ago in Humans
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