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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