Art by maxlapotit – maxlapotit.deviantart.com
Oh wretched mind,
how I loathe you.
From naught, you abruptly open wounds long cauterized.
You slow-bleed my thoughts, as to prolong my suffering.
Blood feeds beasts lying long forgotten.
Heavily I crash into the dust—feeling devoured.
My noisome carcass strewn about, decaying under the burden of a vitriolic sun.
Woe to the weary nomad that should stumble upon this calamity.
Written by Matthew – 2015
© 2015 This Mortal Flesh