One Last Light
As the darkness begins to fall
I can hear the whispering call of the wind.
Calling out my name again and again.
Maybe it is just messing with my brain.
But as it grows darker the wind begins to howl.
As though it is now screaming out my name.
Every night seems to be the same.
What is it that makes the night cry out my name?
Is this someones idea of a game?
Perhaps it is something more, Does death call out in the night?
Leaving you to look for one last light?
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
