Zombies

Behold! That which art carved from deaths mold; The undead. What more can be said to those who have already bled and passed, wondering, pondering, seemingly lost, if not instead without destination, all seeking to sate an unfathomable sensation. A hunger most tormenting, which no mortal lamenting could comprehend The ethereal pains of zombies who survived their end.

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Aysha Nuwas

Date: 2/22/2023 9:49:00 PM

Nice poem, like the topic!

John Arthur
Date: 2/23/2023 4:45:00 AM

Thank you! I was thinking of zombies as an extended metaphor for addicts, who ruin their lives in the search of a feeling they themselves cant describe. Sorta like how zombies like brains, despite being incapable of thought, and how some people get addicted to drugs as a means to cope with their self loathing, trying to love themselves through the use of substance.