The Living Dead's Regrets

Pitiful creature, you
With sallow skin and yellow eyes
Hair as black as the rotting flesh that gave you life
Useless, these beautiful teeth, for they will never see you smile
Wasted, twisted limbs, wracked with the sickness of the dead

They scorn you, pitiful creature
Call you an abomination, foul and ugly, a monster
Even he who created you looks on with bitter hate
His one, his only, his one terrible mistake
No mercy for that which the grave itself rejected

You mourn, pitiful creature, mourn alone
And one night when the moon is full and pearly
(Beautiful despite its flaws, so different from you,casting down stolen light)
You take a rusty knife to your wretched wrists, a wretched death befitting you
But a cry of despair falls from blackened lips

For those who live through death cannot die
You are stuck here, life a gift you did not ask for
Breath a forgotten movement, once beloved, now reviled
A misshapen soul your only token of what was
Stuck in twisted memories of living, now mockingly reenacted

Pitiful creature, lonely soul, you.