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1088
How a Body Becomes a Corpse

Frost touches the lips.
Shadows show without being a friend.
Bitter cold envelopes,
grasping the soul, the spirit.
Nothing will cease.
Faintly the darkness shows itself
mimicking its prey with foul fiery eyes.
The mental capacity left lingers
yet the tempter is nearing.
Every fallen rose petal
foresees their morbid future
for they are helpless, they only stand in the path
of this placid beast.
The heart longs to win the already won battle
yet the past has left its print on the soul
Roses weep for their fallen companions
as drops of dew form on their lush petals
they abruptly stop
a sad glistening hue spreads
deteriorating all hopes.
Frozen they stand still.
The darkness, becoming overwhelming
now takes the hand of its own stature
revealing narrow shrunken fingers once silken,
the nails of thick ebony,
grasping the cold finger tips of its prey,
it reveals a smile so foul, so gaunt
that the body of the prey heaves that remaining
sigh of its haunted past.
The darkness settles to gray,
yet the coldness remains,
Once a haunted body,
now a corpse,
free of its sorrow,
free of its soul,
free of its demon.

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