DaYtiMe tV

There is illness here
An unwellness of spirit
A print of a sickness at home
In the dust
A clogging of arteries
A crumbling of bones
An apathy film freezing eyes
To dull stones
There is hopeless here
Growing it's spores
Filling up mouths, swelling
tongues
Choking throats
It grows fat in a moonlight of
Creaky dead beds
It's fingers blood sticky
It's teeth crunching dread
A vampire child
Spawned of soul rot decay
Slurping desolate breath
In the moons of my day

M P 11/4/21