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UNdeath
By: no walrus

sipping with hostility
ego, arrogance
reflections in the tea cup
eyes like a cool spring night
covered in ice

fallen and cracked
though tomorrow will
still come and birds
will sing praise not to life
but to undeath

rushing through the door
as if you won't wake up
tomorrow when the birds are
joyous and you are not
but an apathetic shell

when the tea cup
does fall and crack
and you don't wake up
always remember
the birds will still sing

Article Source: http://journal.ilovephilosophy.com

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