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Zombie Poem
I watch the building burn through eyes that have seen so much pain these past four years.
I feel the heat of the flames lick my face with their rough tongue,
see the tendrils of smoke twirl into the black stain that is now our sky, another victim of the plague.
Above, in the top floors, I see the monsters in the windows.
They are not screaming, not crying for help.
They just stand there, quietly waiting for the flames to consume them.
They seem to be looking at me, but I know better.
They can’t see anymore. Not truly, anyway.
They can only smell, and hunt, and feast.
And die.
I can sense more of them around me, staggering, stumbling.
They are drawn to the bright flames that I have created.
I should leave before they get to close,
Before they notice me.
But, I cannot.
I feel no will to move.
I only want to stand here and watch this building of monsters burn.
It is horrific, but beautiful in its own way.
A purging of evil, I suppose.
I decide that I am done fighting for a lost cause.
Unholstering my pistol, I place the barrel to my temple.
The metal is cool relief to my head.
After only a moment’s hesitation, I curl my finger around the trigger.
It’s over in a moment.
Pull. BOOM!
As I fall, I can see the dark masses of the monsters around me.
They moan as they prepare to feast.
I smile in my victory.
They cannot hurt me now.
As darkness takes my vision, I ask a question that I’ve asked a thousand times since the beginning.
Is there a God?
I still don’t have an answer, even now.
But, I guess I will find out in a moment or two.
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