Epic Poem: Poets of Life, Part II

Canto 11: Living Death Overflows

Canto 11: Living Death Overflows

©02-03-2022, Olan L. Smith

Screams the course of time into the endpoint of a ditch

And see what pours over; the dead. Living death waiting

For a time to not be. Indifference in a plague, who dares

To expose the unexposed to demise discerning, they've a

Right to be themselves; uncaring bastards in a gulch

Wanting freedom; only to find they are already living

Death, skeletons in the flesh, and bleeding blood that doesn't

Flow, rather is dried up and leached in the ground not

Even a dried stain that marks the earth, only their teeth

Tell their story, jaws agape and teeth worn down by age.

The selfish, the uncaring, souls, of the unloving hope.

Their cries of harshness, selfish freedoms that show how

Humans really are, doomed by their own distinctive

Folly. Do as you want, naïveté is the cause of the

Spread of bereavement by unseen viruses spread by

Only the breath of human-to-human contact. Bent

Arms signaling yours dooms us all. Ignorance is

The virus of death that becomes morbid souls

Of uncaring idiots walking the streets, wanting to

Socialize in bars, at parties, in closed spaces shouting,

No vaccines! Hope for a civilization of fractured

Minds are wasted in the time of death in life.

In death, the Prophet counts the knuckles of

The dead, waiting for the end to tip down,

And bodies rain down into Sheol, the burning death.