The dead man

Watch him walk. Watch him talk. Watch him eat. Watch him sleep.
Hear him speak. Hear his truths. Watch him decay as the dead man.
Soulless, heartless, cold and dead. The dead man speaks no lies.
Stab him, cut him, shoot him, and swear. Nothing you can do to the dead man.
A ring he wears of why he died, a love of his stares at a grave.
She may spit on him but only in vain. It will be as spitting on a grave.
No satisfaction from him she gets, nothing but truth which kills her more.
A knife as a tongue slashes and stabs at him but tears fall from her eyes.
She knows she cannot do any worse than done. She just stares into those sad dead eyes till the end.

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