Bloodlust
By Mat Growcott
Sweat Trickles down my broken face
Mixed with blood and skin and brain
I can't feel my legs, my arms or chest
Just lying, waiting, going insane.
Waiting for this final rest.
Cold,
Ice hangs from the trees around me.
And yet,
I feel warm.
And I pray for this to be a dream
I close my eyes, and open them again.
The world is changed, not like it was.
I now see what I didn't before
The evil, bleak demented
Waste of human flesh, which rots before
My bleeding eyes as I freeze to death
On this cold December, dark morn.
I look up to see a man in red,
He looks out of place,
Pale face, pale hands, pale feet
He almost could be dead.
"Hello good sir, and good morning to you.
Its time to leave this primordial soup,
The breeding place of all things dead,
At last, a chance to clear your head"
And so I say farewell
To life and such
And leave this world
I loved so much.
To leave sandy to his impossible task
And go back to his home, his castle, his domain
And join his minions, to whom he blesses
Eternal life, and to whom he grants
Eternal pain.