It's about time....

Her time was running out,

She could feel the seconds ticking away,

Like an heartbeat,

But in an erratic an inconsistant beat,

Soft at first but gradually getting loader,

It became an unbearable pain,

A servere pounding in her chest,

Is this the end?

Was her number up?

And then all of a sudden; it stopped..........

There was nothing,

No noise,

No pounding,

No ticking,

No heartbeat,

No breathe,

Just silence,

Floating about in a void,

Alive or dead?

I made no difference,

For there was nothing,

No heaven, No hell,

Just purgatory,

A world of no colour,

A world of no time,

Without hope,

An existence of nothingness,

And nothing to cling too,

But in a strange way it was blissfull,

Like the calm before a storm,

Or that feeling you get after a goodnights sleep,

She felt at home,

And the best part was,

The voices in her head had stopped,

Her ordeal was over,

Peace at last.

This poem is about: 
Our world

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