O
oarivan
Guest
We must have a funeral for all the dead worms,
For they all died in the frost of the ice winter’s plight.
Crawling through the snow in the cotton of my brain,
Sucking the blood from the slash in my wrist,
Too cold to survive flesh, night and day.
So we will all die together, those poor worms and I-
How do I know?
The voices and the thoughts in my mind told me so;
So we must have a funeral for all the dead worms
For they all died in the frost of the ice winter’s plight.
Crawling through the snow in the cotton of my brain,
Sucking the blood from the slash in my wrist,
Too cold to survive flesh, night and day.
So we will all die together, those poor worms and I-
How do I know?
The voices and the thoughts in my mind told me so;
So we must have a funeral for all the dead worms
