Feast of the Scavengers

They smell it
A time of weakness
When I am not me
Distracted and hurt
The stress
Has taken its toll
I am weak

I give them an opening
An accident of thought
They strike
Decimating confidence
Making my life shit
As if that is how it is
I’m meant for nothing more

Flesh torn to the bone
Reminding me of the past
When I was the creature
Cowering and crying
His path beyond his grasp
A worm to be pitied
And kept under thumbs

The scavengers hate me
I no longer fit their mold
I have stepped onto my path
Working against time
Popping pills to keep me sane
Ending life a broken shell
That knows not how to live

Trapped within their walls
I need to find escape
Weighed down by mistakes
Some my own and not
Seeing the world I forged
Threatened by the ones I see
Every time I wake

About Charles Yallowitz

Charles E. Yallowitz was born, raised, and educated in New York. Then he spent a few years in Florida, realized his fear of alligators, and moved back to the Empire State. When he isn't working hard on his epic fantasy stories, Charles can be found cooking or going on whatever adventure his son has planned for the day. 'Legends of Windemere' is his first series, but it certainly won't be his last.
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12 Responses to Feast of the Scavengers

  1. http://themotherofnine9.wordpress.com/2013/07/15/ta-da-two-more-awards/
    ta-da you have won
    The ABC Award- Absolutely Brillaint Content Award ( my rendition)


  2. prayingforoneday says:

    Brilliant read mate..
    I honestly read that and word for word I could have wrote this.

    Thank you for this..
    Beautiful in a way..



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