Zombie

Crowelle
(Based on the theme of Frankenstein)

Your eyes—they bury an ocean of lies,
Leave me alone—all I feel is despise.
If nature that killed my exterior “fate”
Wasn’t too late
I’d be dead…
Better than nothing instead.

My life is a Vulcan of foul migration
I’m stuck in this desert of bleak isolation.
Only if I’m revenged through my birth
I’ll die on this earth
Like a dot…
Slowly get musty and rot.

My chance to survive—is it fuzzy or null?
Only if life wasn’t empty or dull
Hideous faces were not putrefaction,
Maybe even a way of perfection
Hidden inside
Out of the cold human sight.

Why do they treat me like mud after all?
Destiny forced me to crawl like a mole.
Tasteless illusions of warmth out of ice,
Nailed my eyes…
I am sick,
Chasing each day like a freak.

Is it the end I am feeling so close?
Is my existence a thorn or a rose?
Is it a star diving far in the sky?
Is my soul ready to die?
Is it true?
I am a zombie… And so are you…

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www.crowelle.com