.........

A disease slowly,
Seeping through my veins.
Shredding it's cold,
Deadly poison.

Replacing any warmth,
With frigid toxins.
Fingers of ice,
Finally closing around my heart.

Every touch of warmth,
Finds me retreating.
Hiding safely,
Behind the wall of ice.

Soon the ice melts,
Leaving me with nothing.
No cold,
No warmth.

I am a walking corps,
Empty.
Words and feelings echo,
In the hallow thing they call my body.

It so cruelly,
Keeps me alive.
Walking blindly in life,
As though I'm dead.

I am a...
Cold,
Hallow,
Empty,
Corpse.

Comments

Paula said…
Very expressive. And more powerful in light of your next poem. Oh the paradox of emotion. Oh the light of Love.
August 18, 2013 at 11:39 AM
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