I decay
The smell of my own rotting flesh,
Fills the stale air
Lips, that once graced softened skin are gone
Baring jagged teeth and exposed jaw bone
Ears, that so loved any melody,
Have long since turned to blackened jerky
I lay in this satin lined box,
Decaying,
My fingers, Are no more than fragments
of once workable things
Worms and maggots long ago,
devoured what little piece of heart you left me with
It's dark in here
And still
I don't rest

Nothing quite like a good Zombie movie to make you laugh
all that blood and guts, biting and killing and eating flesh.
Dante would have been impressed.

I gonna leave a cadaver
not a corpse
so a student of medicine can practise their craft
and you never know,
I might end up being some kind of Frankenstein
writing poetry in a freaky circus.

All that's left is lonely markers
silent words hardly ever read
where no one talks to their neighbours
centuries old stones at crazy angles
mourners heads bowed and hushed
wraiths moving in the mist
treading carefully amongst dead flowers
where even the poets rest their bones
- to sleep the longest sleep,,,,,