State of Unbeing

As I lay there in my state of un-being, maggots slowly play out their meager existence filling themselves at my expense. A last wish of wanting to gasp for breath that will never come again.

Each non-beat of my obsidian heart, spelling out a cataclysm of time,

like the macabre toll of a grandfather clock left to it's own sick devices,

The long claws of memory desperately clinging to my head and the sound of God, being of formidable magnitude,splits the sanity of my spirit.

Closer and closer to perpetual sin, closer to amaranthine existence in the netherworlds.

At long last, I relinquish my undertaking to persist and prevail.

I lay there slowly counting age and not being.

Reviews

[Vidya Bacchus]

When we die is that all or are we stuck in a limbo doomed to remember our life and helpless within the confines of our minds.Great poem:P