Waiting
oh she has been beaten faceless
her bound wrists are black and raw
lying in a burned-out basement,
hot blood choking off her sobs
while he haunts her from the shadows
through a mask of human skin
though she shakes and pleads for mercy
they both know how this will end
it's almost done
the countdown has begun
waiting for death to come
oh his skin has gone translucent,
a thin marionette ghost
oh his head is full of tumors,
he has cancer in his lungs
as his wife sorted pills, he'd ask her
why won't jesus take me home?
that was back when he could speak,
now he can't talk to her at all
only hug
oh it won't be long
waiting for death to come
saw a squirrel laid on the pavement
sprawled out like a tiny rug
so symmetrically under the tree
that it had fallen from
its body heaved with every breath,
paralysed there since
something snapped inside its soft brown back,
so it could not move its limbs
blinking once
staring down the road
waiting for death to come