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SLIPPING

She is holding on by a strand.

As her mind slowly starts cutting away at her soul.



Each second she sees the light go away and into the black hole filled with darkness.

Is there any rope for her to pull on to not fall into the hole?



Each time the precious light in her heart goes dim.

Soon there will not be a reason for it to beat.



There will be no life left coming from the heart.

Soon all there will be is coldness.

As the body lays dead on the floor.



Where was the rope when she needed it?

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  1. Date: 1/13/2013 4:02:00 AM

    Christina, a touching, sad and deeply poem. - Hope your days will get some sunshine. - Have a nice Sunday. - oxox / / Anne-Lise :)