They were only half dead,
infected by bark beetles.    
Together they gathered    
like zombies,      
a riverside cluster    
torn and dismembered    
shuffled to a random array.    
Each day someone walks past    
they ignore the un-miraculous,      
avoid the dark exterior    
no one wants to be bitten.    
I need the bite    
offering a throat
to be ripped out   
I embrace the group,    
take my place      
but all I find is their grace    
as we feed on the last supper.    
Written by Razzerleaf
Published | Edited 13th Jun 2022
Author's Note
a riverside walk
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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