Your Poetry Dot Com - But For A Moment's Clout . . . Ben

The

silence

it is deafining

i can hear a pin

drop,

all

but for that breathing

oh someone make it

stop!

From

behind these wilting walls

i hear it night and day, the sound

of death's incessive breath it never goes

away.

I

feel

it getting closer

more and more as i grow old,

i see the shaddow

of a corps

waiting

to

take

hold.

I

can smell

it's rotten stench

i feel it's evil touch,

my

bed's become a casket

with my body in it's

clucth.

As

if that wasn't

bad enough seducing

all my fears, relentlessly

it moan's to me deep

within my

ears.

Stalking

me within my sleep my voice is paralized,

my nerves inside like bugs they creep eating out

my eyes.

So

this is

what it come's to

as they invaid my bed,

i am but a legacy so

something can be

fed.

The

price we pay

to pass this way

but for a moment's

clout,

mother's

womb is now

a

tomb

marked

either n or

out.

Ben

the
artist
formerly
known
as
myheartsvoice.

This poem is Copyright © myheartsvoice