Anatomy of a Wordsmith: A Poem

(Define death. Is it when the mind stops thinking or the heart stops beating?)

Date of Death: Unknown

Time of Death: Unknown

Cause of Death: UNKNOWN*

External examination: No external injuries.

Internal examination:

the subject’s cells were scarred,

all the words he ever wrote

carved crudely into their walls;

his heart ceased to pump blood

and instead injected ink into his veins,

staining his innards blue.

his mind was a perpetual battlefield

of ideas— thoughts struggling

to gain dominance, shredding

and twisting each other apart

until they really didn’t make sense anymore—

and not understanding them drove him insane.

his marrow was infused

with poetry that has long been forgotten–

words, phrases and ideals of glory

that were as pitiably transient as

the human remembrance,

forgotten by minds but

buried in bones.

his lungs were filled with gunpowder

that made his thoughts and

words explosive—

but his tongue, it was

laced with tact and metaphors

that softened the blow and exuded

the sort of empathy that could even defuse bombs.

the subject lived a cursed half-life,

where his words were his world

but reality was a recurring nightmare

that he had too many times

(and yet each time,

it seemed more vivid than the last)

until he morphed into a breathing poem

and became the words he wrote.

*This report may be inaccurate. All available forensic technology that was employed returned inconclusive results because they are applicable for humans only.


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