My English Verbal Poetry: Under the Wings of the Raven: 9. One of the Walking Dead
If I don’t feel the warmth of the sun
On a sunshiny day,
If I'm too numb to feel
My feet on the ground,
Even when I’m stamping them
Till there's a hole in the soil,
What am I but one of the walking dead?
Even if I don't see the maggots wriggling
In my muscles and digging holes through my bones,
Still I can't feel the loss
Of the falling skin and the melting marrow,
They are but a mask to camouflage,
A harness of decay, a cape to conceal
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