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October
Our minds are empty and dark when the moon is full and bright
Our hearts grow cold when the sun shines hot and high
Our arid eyes stitch themselves shut to this sinister sight
Our souls suffer and surrender to the suicidal cemetery sky
The worms continuously crawl in the corrupted coffin case on a hook and we always fall for the bitter bait
We become permanently petrified…similar to statues of pseudo saints as we selfishly sin
Often at the omega of that atrocious autumn month, one can wretchedly witness ghosts guarding the barbed wire decorated grotesque gate
And I tragically think to myself, “Are they trying to keep the living out, or the dead in?”
Our dreams are disappearing when nightmares begin to perpetually parade and patrol
The harvest moon merely looks like a gigantic jackolantern rapaciously ruling the sky that illuminates the zombie streets
Today…we bury tomorrow as the toxic truth takes its terrible toll
The Grim Reaper gently knocks on my tombstone and wickedly whispers, “Trick or treat”
Winter is way out of reach and soon our corpses will grow cold and rot into the Earth
Before I eternally give up my ghost, one final “farewell” to the world I will bid
I’ve spent my entire life digging my own grave from death until birth
But now I need your helping hand to close the lid
