zombie

the broken husk
drags itself
across the dead grass
drawn
by need
by necessity
it’s every moment
one
of endless hunger
numbed
with the icy blade
of death
driven
by mindless intinct
a trail
of rotten flesh
infested
with squirming
fat maggots
as air whistles
from
collapsed lungs
the milky white gaze
sees nothing
the blackened tongue
hangs
tasteless
as it seeks
the heat
of living flesh
driven on
by the beating drum
the song
of the loa

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