I shamble on and rake my feet
Against the sanguine shaded ground.
I do not feel the rising heat
Of the dead leaves strewn all around
The moist, lifeless and littered soil.
Without a thought within my skull
And victim gripped in fear and toil
To free himself before I kill
Him, I eat his brains to fill the void
Where once I thought of dying trees;
Autumnal landscapes once enjoyed
With florid colored, crunchy seas.
Just maybe, if I eat his brain,
Ill think of autumn once again.















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