Cold Black Stare

Each of us live our own lives.
We don't recognize what we 
take for granted.
Each time one of us dies.
We're reminded of the times we 
wished we hadn't.

I can see the cold black stare 
on your face.
I can hear your voice one last 
time.
It's a devastating blow to the 
human race.
Without a chance to give mine.

Your life is on playback.
Keep repeating.
Maybe you'll get the life you've 
always wanted.
Keep dreaming.
You'll probably just wonder.
Most likely.
The voices are like thunder.
That's more like it.

Eyes roll back.
Temporary dreaming.
Shake and shiver.
Isolated breathing.
Touch and sliver.
That is what I'm needing.
I can't deliver.
Look at me I'm bleeding.

Blackened eyes staring me 
down.
No face to identify who you are.
Controlling from the top to the 
ground.
No shred of decency in your 
heart.
Terrified by the anger.
Unlucky to say the least.
I hope I can manage.
I've become a part of the feast.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2013

Poem

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Hicks Avatar
November 4, 2013 at 12:32 AM
Very nice!
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