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Five Senses of Death (The Ian Dawn Challenge)

Poetry By: jmurch
Horror



The news stresses me. Everyday some new sick headline strikes the news. I first wrote pieces of this poem around the time T. Martin was murdered by G. Zimmerman, a huge racism case in the United States. It seemed like the entire country came together to protest this murder of a teenager. This story, however, was not the inspiration. A community activist was murdered in Rochester, NY. He was gunned down in the street. He was actively involved in getting other young men out of criminal lives in an urban setting. He also was a teen, but even as he lay dying on a sidewalk, people were already forgetting his existance. My point is: Death is forever, and it is always wrong. It is an end that cannot be fixed whether cameras are on or not...


Submitted:Jun 24, 2012    Reads: 152    Comments: 11    Likes: 3   


The screams of today's headlines:

"Body found at Canandaigua Lake Outlet...

Police: 2 dead at Beverly Hilton in murder-suicide...

Man breaks into VT home cut self on window dies...

Girl, 5, killed, sister and mother critical in Santa Ana hit and run..."

Da Dong!

Do you hear the darkness of death

and the clang of the bells ring...ringing?

Da Dong!

Do you feel the sorrowful sadness of death

feeling death's stallion burning you with hot breath...breathing?

Do you see the path paved in Crimson skulls?

Do you care?

Do ya?

Do you taste the grizzled tendons in your mouth?

Do you care?

Do ya?

Da Dong!

Do you smell the putrid decay of death

its dark stench rot...rotting?

Da Dong!

Do you hear the black blood within death

as its rancid liquid begins to boil...boiling?

DO FEEL FEAR! DO FEAR DEATH

When we are so good at making it...

Do you hear the darkness of light?

hear no evil...

Do you feel hatred within love?

feel no evil...

Do you see black inside white?

see no evil...

Do you taste death on top of life?

taste not...

Do you smell decayed flesh in a midnight lily?

Either way...

Death can smell you

On all five senses of his boneless hand....

Do you care?

Do ya?

Do you only care about the dying

when the cameras are rolling?

You should lift your hands high

and whisper a prayer for the dying...

Or do we dip our feet into the fire

and bring our eyes toward the living?

Do ya?

Do you hear death's song in the wind

as it sings to the air whip...whipping

Do ya?

Yeah...Good Times...?

Yeah, my friends, the song is the sound

of death's woeful weeping

because he knows...

he knows the darkness of light

as death becomes us all...





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