Zombie

There is no trace of sentiment,

No lines upon your face,

Nor vaguest of emotions,

Your mask firmly in place.

What are you really thinking?

What's going through your head?

Are you still among the living?

Or are you already dead?

Is that heart of yours still beating?

Can you even feel at all?

Do you care you've left me bleeding,

Maimed and sprawled out on the floor?

I'm cold and I am broken

But you don't give a damn.

You sit down and you watch me

With a disconcerting calm.

You yourself are driven 

By some inscrutable force;

Fueled by your mindless will,

A drone, a zombie of sorts.