I am rotting away.
Holding on by a thread of skin.
Any second I will fall into the Earth.
Becoming compost.
Limb by limb I decompose into the soil.
Letting everything disappear.
Giving up on living.
Letting fungus grow from me,
To keep the cycle going.
Spirit calls to me,
So I can start again.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry from the Soul
PoetryJust poetry written by yours truly. There is a little bit of everything here.
