Dead Yet?

Ezekiel Olayemi

I live in a world that feels dead.

We breathe — proof we’re alive —

yet we are all dead.

 

Dead, not as in dust and grave,

but as in erased —

when thought fades,

when feeling turns hollow.

 

Who said death waits for the body?

No — death begins

when the things that make us alive

are taken, stripped, rewritten.

 

We live in a world of erasure —

a garden where false seeds grow,

not of soil and sun,

but of safety that shackles,

comfort that commands.

 

Fear — our foundation.

Erasure — our design.

And so it will be,

until truth finds us,

until we awaken

and remember

who we really are.

 

  • Author: Ezekiel Olayemi (Offline Offline)
  • Published: October 16th, 2025 18:52
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 20
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors


Comments +

Comments2

  • sorenbarrett

    A most interesting approach to death and what lies beyond. Nicely done

  • NinjaGirl

    It's my personal opinion that death begins in the school system when children work 9-5s that destroy creativity.



To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.