Rotting Poem by Akami Lioncourt
Rotting
My flesh drips from my body,
as I lay in waste 20 feet under.
Worms crawl in and out of my body,
using me as a home and food source;
My soul rots,
in a pitch black darkness.
I cry for Mercy, but,
Alas it never comes.
My purgatory is your happiness.
Never once did you help me.
So, here I am...rotting...
Friday, March 18, 2011
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4/25/2024 6:23:00 PM # 1.0.0.1119
