Poetry >THE INTERPRETED END
Amber Contreras
THE INTERPRETED END
The eyes are open, but they can't see;
They look around frantically.
Vision is clouded when it's cold.
Life of the living has been sold.
Everything will fall to the ground.
To the wild, the body is bound.
A myriad of colors come crashing in:
A deceiving way for a death to begin.
Ears can hear the shattering crunch
Of past memories fading by the bunch.
The whistling sound of unseen destruction
Rips through the corpse as a sick seduction.
This is the end, or so it may appear.
For the bitter-sweet end is not yet here.