They assemble at the feet of the corpse, picking away at the bits of meat.  The beating heart now still, the nostrils dry with no breath beyond them.  The eyes are closed but, they will pick them until they open and then relieve the body of the brown orbs.

This is their feast.. They'd tried before, but the heart still beat, the lungs still drew in precious breath, the will, strong to survive.  They left for a moment biding their time, moving on to devour another corpse, knowing they would get their prize at the end.

And here it was, they picked at the soft under belly, tearing, shredding, swallowing what they couldn't when it had been alive.  They would take their time to drawing it out as if to make the corpse suffer for making them wait.. mad in their frenzy for blood...


A little venting here.. this is my view of the MEDIA.. the foul gut tearing vultures that will now finish what they started a long time ago.. the swallowing, the tearing, the shredding of Michael Jackson..  L.I.G.  .  Nothing is sacred to them, while some do what they are paid to do, others.. go above and beyond. I don't believe in saying something good just because the person is deceased however, sometimes there is such a thing as over kill.  It's time to let this man with all his problems, with all his oddities sleep.. as I said L.I.G.

R.I.P Michael..

The End

2 comments about this story Feed