Dead Awake

Hexed window swing devil swang, opening for derelicts that look out a black and tortured sky’s howling wind, pain so great that the house creaks and groans, moving now and then. Father has a mind to kill himself, yep, he isn’t insane of course, just living among zombies. I tend this ageless man with Alzheimer’s, wondering where he has gone. I have patience for a patient who won’t wake up despite being fed stories, spreading the word of hope that help us cope. I was bullied by birds that feast as one with no pecking order in gouged out eyes belonging to others. Friends of the night are stranger by the day. Everyone was fainting away from stench, the land of breath having unnatural breathing. The end we sought has decay of lying about the rotten truth when the living come by chance far and few between roads of ruin. The End.