"I have a book"
"I have a book with pages within its covers,
I wrote your life on this page,
Each one of you were only ever a one,
Never more, never less,
I scribed upon it your
Birth,
Life,
Death
Was inevitable in that moment, I took
Notes before I wrote this,
Homework was needed as I feed
Myself into your life.
"Hi I'm Paul,
It was but a step to let myself in,
A friend is trusted upon time, let close
To life's
Moment*
Beginning
Breath
That I took wasn't mine, but written on
This dried page, red was the colour
That was used, still warm from
Your depleted carcass, no longer life.
You were one of a few blessed
Into eternity's words
No room for error as only one page you had,
Perfection inked on this dried page.
"I have a book"
"I have a book with pages within its covers,
I will write this till the book is full,
And though many fill this carcass of death,
They live on in the brief descriptions of their
Birth,
Life,
Passing
They are recorded in red ink, the blood of
Life now ceased flows on this page,
I am writing a book of memoires
Of live birthed, life lived and then death.
"I licked the pages,
"I know its wrong,
"But they where salty like cracking pork,
You will be immortal in these pages,
But first is you last breath, can you see
What I'm doing keeping your mundane
Life breathing within the pages.
Your flesh is the page, your blood the ink
That tells the story beginning, middle, and your death.
