Twice a day, I pass death on my way.
Death smiles at me.
A smile, that is at once, reassuring and terrifying.
I watch, unable to tear my eyes away from it.
The frantic clucking turns into a drawn out scream of agony.
That too, dies away.
Death looks up, from the puddles of blood, from the sanitized white-tiled floor,
and smiles.
A sickening, terrifying smile.
Death, in the bloody knife on the counter, in the money handed over.
Death: packaged, sealed and delivered.
Then it all gets swallowed up… in the all-consuming hunger that we live for, live in.
Death fades away.
Other sights and sounds take over.
It’s all sealed and shelved, until tomorrow…
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
'I will look at cliffs and clouds
With quiet eyes,
Watch the wind bow down the grass,
And the grass rise.
And when lights begin to show,
Up from the town,
I will mark which must be mine,
And then start down...'
With quiet eyes,
Watch the wind bow down the grass,
And the grass rise.
And when lights begin to show,
Up from the town,
I will mark which must be mine,
And then start down...'
3 comments:
it's all sealed and shelved until tomorrow...
yes,of course.
(p.s.me likes.
a lot.)
thankies! horrid, though. isn't it?
It's wonderfully delicate and agonising.
But you had to mention Clucking isn't it?
Post a Comment