Here lies a dormant corpse
strung up by its thumbs
way up high the darkened hall
tearstain left on rotting cheek
glistens as the light goes dim.

It’s been so long when last it spoke
now it watches with bloodshot eyes
searching the crowd passing by
for the one that torn it apart
leaving flesh with terrible gashes.

Blood no longer drips from wounds
for the heart no longer beats
an empty shell bereft of life
waiting for a chance to steal
time that its old love took.

Back when life freely flowed
with tenderness and love so true
but the end is always the same,
dreams come crashing down
broken time and time again.

And as the passage of hour comes and goes
the corpse that hung will wait forevermore,
for its old love to walk its path
ne’er minding if its old and bent
for at last it will have its revenge.

-The Elusive Scribe 101013-

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