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A fly in a web, beating its wings.
Beating quickly now.
[Quickly.]

         And a spider.

They beat in vain.


I felt a funeral drum
pounding in my chest.
Pounding Slowly now.
[Slowly.]


I watch myself fade.
Is someone fooling me?
Why am I dark and cold?
I have been tired for quite a while.

[Rest.]

An ethereal shroud encapsulates…
The drum has lost its beat.
And I saw no more.
I saw no more, and then –
©2006-2010 ~genocide-is-fun
:icongenocide-is-fun:

Author's Comments

This is basically a recount of a near death experience that I had, though this poem is meant to be from the perspective of someone who actually DOES die. I slipped into a coma for a day, but I woke up in the ICU and of course I'm fine now. :P

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February 10, 2006
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