Land of the Living Dead — A Poem
The living dead walk before my eyes,
Aimless, wandering, knowing not where,
Purposeless achievements, unfinished tasks,
The days passing by,
Bringing the restful peace of the nights.
Knowing not where their souls are kept,
The living dead wander in the night.
In a bid to pay a ransom for their souls.
Restless, often seen in a disturbed state of mind,
They seek their tombstones,
In the pitch black of night.
Only the living breathe an easy sleep,
Resting content with the world,
And pity the living dead,
Desperately seeking their souls.
The world’s filled with the living dead,
Hear I their lost, vain, wild cries,
That seek deliverance…
From the treacherous mire of this world.
NOTE: If you have a goal and purpose, an aim in life, you are counted amongst the living. I pray that everyone in this world will find a way to avoid Time Traps, devices, events, addictions, and people, which/who steal their time. We have but one life to live. Our time here on earth is limited. This poem is my ode to the living dead, those who live but are dead to purposeful deeds, which can actually make a positive change in this world.
