The Dead Ones

Shambolically staggering in the byways,
zombies on whom no blow fell
nor the grave welcome.
We weave and twist in sleeping thought,
dead in mind and soul.

No emotion - or is it too much?
Confusion blares like a foghorn
while thought and dreams lie inactive
but the body jerks and twitches.

We are the dead ones,
zombies with no consciousness
unseen, unseeking,
waiting only for true death to come.


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