The Rotting - Exhumed




Deep within the grave

Where the cadaver lies decayed - there lurks the rotting

Within every fetid corpse

This process festers on its course - to speed the rotting



Its ubiquity cannot be denied - a gruesome trade,

sempiternally plied



From the waste in which we wallow

To the flesh we gluttonously swallow - we consume the

rotting

In rubbish bins of medical waste

Awaits the horrendous, wretched taste - of the rotting



That first whiff sure to nauseate - and its rancid fruit we

regurgitate



The rotting's coming

The end it brings

The rotting is the destiny of all that's breathing

The rotting's strumming

On your heartstrings

The rotting's coming - 'til you're the corpse that we're

bereaving



In the slither of the grubs

The maggots writhing in their chum - there feed the rotting

In suppurating stools

That dribble ichor into pools - there reeks the rotting



The grue that binds us together - is everyone devouring one

another



The rotting's coming

The end it brings

The rotting is the destiny of all that's breathing

The rotting's strumming

On your heartstrings

The rotting's coming - 'til you're the corpse that we're

bereaving



The rotting



The humble and the great

All consumed by the same fate - become the rotting

In its blackening embrace

All is eventually erased - by the rotting



The putrid waste upon which we've built our lives - as we

decay, maggots and weevils thrive



The rotting's coming

It was here all along

The rotting is an acrid, stinking, putrid savor

The rotting's strumming

Its discordant song

The rotting's thrumming

A defective dirge to scourge your neighbors



The rotting



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