Friday, October 30, 2015

Worms and roots

they toil in the soil 
both the worms and the roots
the blood, the flesh
'tis their feast of choice
winding as laces through
a dead-man's boots

the force of death
courses through what's
underfoot to tempt
and snare with its
sparkling web

those drops of dew
that rain from shrouds
mournings of the past

shadows lap and savor
pools of tears and 
future fears, in frozen
tides they fall upon
their prey below

the viral sleep of the rotting
to devour us in
regrets, the birth of our deaths
tacking to the mire
trapping of desire the
whispers of worms and roots








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