> *Image taken & owned by me*
<hr>
### <center> Half Alive </center>
<hr>
<hr>
We lay, waylaid...
run ragged and dazed,
by the honking and hooting,
from strange places.
breezing past,
like gliding helicopters
our soul is strapped,
to this crumbling body
sapped of revival
and ready to quench.
Half Alive....
our voices are crippled,
like fading holograms
when the sun,
arrives with no caution,
striping us to the barest
in tales we dwell,
gasping for one more
pull of air
Into our desperate lungs
to keep us going again
We are gladiators,
limping on a stride,
biding time,
and counting the seconds
on the tip of our ninth life,
holding on to hope,
like a whirling rope,
threatening to snap.
At the beginning of the end,
our hour is at the corner,
ticking desperately.
waiting for our wiling demise,
for death is honourable,
accepting and inviting
and we're past the redemption.
Alas, eyes closed, head bowed,
for we retreat,
into darker places
when the light is come
revival is past us!
and we; once green pastures
now reeks of draught
half Alive,
With no where to turn to.
Foes are beyond the horizon,
wearing sweet senile smiles,
feeding off our tables
like temporal landlords.
this Life is WAR,
and we're bested by allies,
smirking at us
falling with a heavy thud,
to rise no more.
<hr>
<hr>
### Written by @Josediccus
##### 17/6/2020