Sept. 3, 2019

The Time For Crows

by Douglas Blaine Matthews (author's profile)


The Time For Crows

Time has fastened its shrapnel about my throat
Cleanly jerked
The echo
The last sound made by my body disgracing the ground
For which I've treaded for far too long
Who's there?
It's only me, my thoughts...
I'm gone, finally. But I'm still here
More fear and more pain
My last escape written by the same author that
Punished me to my first hell
Now, frozen in the flames
Bound by my own cowardice
Success has failed me
Failure has failed me
I have failed me
Once again!
But wait!
I have thoughts so I can think
I have lungs so I can breathe
I have thoughts that can think for my lings
To not breathe.
A spoiled garden I am
When once I at least had leaves
The sickly stench of my life
Feed me to the worms
Cast a woven shadow of grass over my corpse
And let me rest on these transparent shards
My thoughts
For I am no more
But an existence in a forgotten nothingness
Now rest my case

F.S.P. Florida Death Row
8-13-13 3:07 AM


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Douglas Blaine Matthews Posted 4¬†months, 2¬†weeks ago.   Favorite
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