MissingWinter
2016-12-24 | 日记本:《三下乡专题》
A voice whirring in my head,
“give up, you fool, there’s no use ...”
growing stronger, or fading away.
I have a heart,
held by a devil,
it’s cut open,
blood empty.
It shrunk, trembled, finally ceased.
I walk a zombie,
twist a dance
in a pot of frozen blood.
Face muddied, colors flied, fresh painted, the fool hollowed.
Winter came, silhouetting the bloody scene.
Dancing zombie iced, stiffed, cracked.
Hollow filled.
May winter last!