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The Unwritten Poem
Graveyard full of coffins,
Where a casket was underneath the hackberry,
Where a cadaver climbs at the bottom
Trying to reach their vanquished cranium.
At the burial ground, a spider lily starts to sprout.
Poisoning the remorseless scattered bones.
Conquering the phosphorus inside a warm body,
Taking their lives in a misty false spring.
The crow starts to crawl.
Trying to poke the wooden box in a meadow at night.
While the cicadas scratch under the moonlit,
That is being pursued by a silent hawk-eye.
Do not feel sorry for the vermin-filled body.
Rather, have sympathy for the living dead.
© Havoc
Where a casket was underneath the hackberry,
Where a cadaver climbs at the bottom
Trying to reach their vanquished cranium.
At the burial ground, a spider lily starts to sprout.
Poisoning the remorseless scattered bones.
Conquering the phosphorus inside a warm body,
Taking their lives in a misty false spring.
The crow starts to crawl.
Trying to poke the wooden box in a meadow at night.
While the cicadas scratch under the moonlit,
That is being pursued by a silent hawk-eye.
Do not feel sorry for the vermin-filled body.
Rather, have sympathy for the living dead.
© Havoc
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