Eternal: A poem

Someday, the zombies may eat my heart,

but they will never eat my soul;

and bullets can pierce the thickest steel

at point-blank range, I’m told.

But when all’s said and done,

flesh and bone rots away;

the day when we don’t fit the mold,

the only thing left

that my mind will have kept

is I’ll have you, my eternal, to hold.

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One thought on “Eternal: A poem

  1. Pingback: We Drink Because We’re Poets – Weekly News | We Drink Because We're Poets

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