To Dust

How I walk, 
How I stumble, fall 
Then gather my senses,
Get up and stride again,
     only,
     only,
Now I see the dead before me,
Slouching, crawling,
Staring and vacant,
Their last look of fear
Tells all; Quatermass
Be once again upon us.

Ghosts,
Ghosts of Mars extinguish
All life, and I see them too,
The same vacant look upon
A grotesque and disfigured face,
A...

Read and leave comments (2)