A bug has sucked my blood and I am dry.

He reached into my heart and drained my veins.

I’m dead, but living to the untrained eye.



The stench of rotting flesh lingers nearby.

It oozes and it stuns me as it stains.

A bug has sucked my blood and I am dry.



I feel no joy, exhilarating high,

nor stimulation, laced with aches and pains.

I’m dead, but living to the untrained eye.



I long to kiss this tragic place goodbye,

rest in the ground while church bells chime refrains.

A bug has sucked my blood and I am dry.



I breathe no oxygen, but yet I sigh

as Earth still holds me down with rusty chains.

I’m dead, but living to the untrained eye.



No funeral, nobody stops to cry.

No one can see that only dust remains.

A bug has sucked my blood and I am dry,

I’m dead, but living to the untrained eye.