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As I Lay Dying

Daydreaming nihilist. Code maniac with a coffee addiction. Music, movie buff. High functioning alcoholic.

Artist - Glam Beckett

Artist - Glam Beckett

Sunday morning. Half-past four.
Raining profusion. The smell of confusion.
Icy bed collapsing in isolation.
Zephyr didn't recognise anymore.
Her body lay dying on the floor.

Put bread on the table, wine in my soul.
Tomorrow's a new day within the same walls.
Till eyes pave way, till these hands support.
Till I forget. But her stench now soars.
Her body lay dying on the floor.

Pinch pennies, make ends meet, and give them all.
Birdie and Atry with a foot in my door.
Never in neither out, you're someplace obscure.
But maggots have found their place in her soles.
Her body lay dying on the floor.

So I step away from the black mirror, towards her frame.
I wish that I knew her, and then I did.
As maggots and roaches crawled out of her face.
I gazed at her hollow eyes, in shock and pain.
My body lay dead. So what is my name?

© 2020 W h o I s I

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