Daily walk, Daily talk.
Everyday, it's the same old route.
But one day - is not the same
as another.
Today, as I stepped along the road
adding to an uncounted target,
along the same road,
along, the same tread.
A dark spot on the road
unnoticed until I reached it.
What was it, I wondered?
Bent with a morbid curiosity.
This wasn't the first
This wasn't the last
This wasn't a time
for the faint of the heart
Everyday, I see
Everyday, I smell
Everyday, I know
the line towards hell
There's something beyond just life
There's something waiting to die
And the main course for the day
was a stuffed sparrow on the side
Round as a balloon,
it was stiff as a toy.
Frozen in time,
was it used as a decoy?
One will never know
for I have no will
to go any closer,
it's enough of a chill.