In honour of you who have passed long ago

[dr_innate]

corpse that lay
where you asked to sit and rest
rotting out in the slushy mid-winter thaw
winds blows down the trail
screaming
murder...murder...

the thick sweet corspe reek screams of murder
pulls brains out the nose
and lays them in the dirt

"do not think of summer's flowers
think of murder"

"you, walker, you wear bloody gloves
you cannot change them

you wear bloody gloves
these gloves do not wash
you dare not bring your hands to cup your ears
shield them from the screaming winds"

murder...murder...

"for this blood
this bad blood will find your mind
and poison"

coming back here to lay flowers upon you
they wilt, wither, and die
a dead smell chokes
and vomit surges
but to find no release

corpse lay beneath pine needles
broken bottles
a forgotten gift
cards
letters
candles
kisses
words of love left in the wind

that have found their way about the world
to echo
murder...murder..