09/05/2008

'The Price Of Life.'

Born without choice

ironic
the unknown fear
hidden
the depth of life

reality seldom realised

walking the dead.

Each green mile
subconsciously
eaten

youth

day
by
month
by
year.

I cry one billion tears
unknown to my consciousness

as the clock beckons with it's etched face,
each finger glides

wags
never weary

guiding our way to darkness.

I need to take the slow path
as each line appears

never fade,
they crawl across mankind

as the quick path beckons
with demons of excess

the price of life?

Death.

© 2008 Michaela James.
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