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Death awaits, like an outstretched arm the living corpse that roams the streets. Crawling, creeping, choking, screaming, draining the memories – the only remainders of a life once lived. Infancy, strangled like a fetus dangling from an aborted thought. Childhood, forgotten in the hysteria that cripples the mind. Youth, drowned in the salty-sweet cocktail of prolonged misery. Adulthood, lost in the perils of responsibility and the mundane. Old age, wasted reliving the tragedies of a life too short. And now, in the tomb, the rotting hand of a wretched existence claws the casket of suppression, yearning for just one more chance. |