The Ghoul
Whenever you go I’ll be by soon after
A womble, recycling life.
The mourners depart, I descend from the rafter
Wielding my flesh-paring knife.
I have no interest in your hair or your teeth
Someone else might but not me.
My taste's for your skin and the flesh there beneath,
Giblets and blood giving glee.
I walk through your body, your life barely lived
Taking whatever I need.
Giving no thought to the things that you’ve loved,
My motives are anger and greed.
I am the raven picking through your paper bones;
I am the bat chasing your ghost in the sky
I am the maggot stripping flesh from your home
I am the cat who walks on by.
I eat what I want, the rest is discarded
Your life lost in plastic bags.
A shallow grave, ashes scattered unregarded
Disposed of like dirty old rags.
We creep through your home, tearing flesh from your bones
Paper shredder helping you rot.
Erasing all signs of your life and your times.
Until finally you are not.
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