I once was found,
but then I was lost,
Silently blinded
By deep white frost.

My eyes lost focus.
My hands were cold
As I trudged past
The black dead mold.

The trees laid bare.
There was no fruit.
Suddenly, oh so suddenly,
I became quite astute.

There was nothing like it.
A howl, one of a kind,
Consciously placed me
In a mighty tight bind.

It ran away.
An owl screamed hoot...hoot!
All I found was dark blood
And an old man's boot.

Genius
is nothing but a lackadaisical
old ****,
lying in the dirt,
lost in thought,
relishing over a tasty ****.

My head is ticking like a time bomb.
I rub the back of my hand with my cold sweaty palm.
Silently whimpering, in pain, for my mom,
I kindly ask her to bring a canola oil embalm.

As I rub the embalm at the time bomb,
I can hear a gentle soft psalm.
My life fades away as if it were nothing more than a sitcom.
I perceive my conscious escaping me, but I surprisingly feel calm.