Dead and Wake
Dead, Dead.
Decay, rotten flesh,
Melting beneath the scorching sun.
Worms, maggots, flies-
A parade in time with the vulture's drum.
Teasing, tearing, ripping this way, that way,
Dashing, splashing like an artist painting madness.
Bumblebee, whisper to me:
Am I dead...or just asleep
in the scariest dream?
No...
I can't be dead.
I refuse to be dethroned.
Oh death, you have no sting.
Your wings have been clipped.
A man of all seasons,
I fight every round.
Knocked around...
but rise before I hit the ground.
Yeah, I am not dead.
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