The Corpse

I am a walking, talking corpse,
I live in the shadows with the dead,
The good inside me painfully dies,
And foreigners invade my head.

Poison streams throughout my veins,
The demons in my brain are numb,
Perhaps I’m ignorant of the beauty in life,
Or maybe I’m just fu*king dumb.

Accursed the night, the dawning hours,
A barren, unforgiving land,
Loathe the time of stagger and stupor,
Brought by a lifeless hand.

A pain inside, a rippling fire,
I quench its thirst and ponder,
Should I pierce my side upon the cross?
Or in no mans land I wander?

David Vitali. Written 2005.