Xeromatosis
Greenlighter
- Joined
- Jun 2, 2012
- Messages
- 36
I was dreaming of a DeadMan, floating down a stream
The water icy cold, I waded through the trees
Until it seemed the DeadMan, was floating at my knees.
With no hint of fright or whim of worry, I bent my figure low
Just to glimpse the DeadMan, in the that grim and dreary glow
His eyes were gray, his gaze long stale, and even his flesh had rot
Yet for reasons darker then the cave, I could condemn the DeadMan not.
It was a weary face but one still young
And one still wrought with tears.
Loneliness and emptiness; and sorrow far beyond his years.
Etched in stone his single crying eye was searching for happiness still
Yet the saddest thing was in knowing—he just hadn’t had the will.
I stared the DeadMan up and down, and then I had a thought.
Surely his doom was well deserved, and all his woe self bought
Or else he’d been a foolish soul, and reaped a fallow field.
Following blindly the road he saw, and just hoping luck would yield.
I turned to leave the grotto, and all it’s tantalizing light
When I thought I saw the DeadMan smile, a grimace full of blight
I whipped about in terror, to the corpse still lying prone,
The fear was sliding from me quickly, and I found myself alone.
Smiling gentle to myself, gliding past a sun’s beam.
Floating down a quiet stream, a DeadMan, had a Dream.
The water icy cold, I waded through the trees
Until it seemed the DeadMan, was floating at my knees.
With no hint of fright or whim of worry, I bent my figure low
Just to glimpse the DeadMan, in the that grim and dreary glow
His eyes were gray, his gaze long stale, and even his flesh had rot
Yet for reasons darker then the cave, I could condemn the DeadMan not.
It was a weary face but one still young
And one still wrought with tears.
Loneliness and emptiness; and sorrow far beyond his years.
Etched in stone his single crying eye was searching for happiness still
Yet the saddest thing was in knowing—he just hadn’t had the will.
I stared the DeadMan up and down, and then I had a thought.
Surely his doom was well deserved, and all his woe self bought
Or else he’d been a foolish soul, and reaped a fallow field.
Following blindly the road he saw, and just hoping luck would yield.
I turned to leave the grotto, and all it’s tantalizing light
When I thought I saw the DeadMan smile, a grimace full of blight
I whipped about in terror, to the corpse still lying prone,
The fear was sliding from me quickly, and I found myself alone.
Smiling gentle to myself, gliding past a sun’s beam.
Floating down a quiet stream, a DeadMan, had a Dream.
