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Morbid Calamity
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Silence reigns in my abode, don“t want to hear my thoughts.
I hit the road and take the shots.
The sage talks about straw dogs and moderation.
Listen to the silence within, he said.
While the voice screams bloody murder, in my head!
That persistent little critter, on my shoulder, selling me shit.
While the sky gradually darkens overhead.
The blood flows, as my arms are steadily getting wet.
The grave looking like an enticing bed.
After rigor mortis by Lady Death.
To the land of endless rest, I am led.
Or so it would seem...
The worms are already well fed.
Though not with my flesh.
Others have become carrion for the crows.
Many wars paint the world red.
The survivors sad gaze look upon rows.
Every one of them, a pile of corpses, neatly stacked.
What is known as a morbid calamity of miseries and woes.
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Category :
Original
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Media :
Digital Painting
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Date :
2014-04-30