eclipse Posted November 5, 2012 Share Posted November 5, 2012 I must be the last, the dead pretending to be alive have passed a candle like a baton and wait for my demise beneath bullet shredded skies. I play a piano and rhapsodize the music helps to keep me alive, the ghosts dance a ballet each holds a bullet with my name. One last ghost stands on a provisional grave, the candle is now a gun with each click one of my senses is gone. I join the ghosts and dance. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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