white cut sleeves

January 16, 2018

I felt him

rise from his deep slumber

The new day shall begin

as the old day is numbered

He felt me

gravitate towards the light

I felt the need to be free

but it was too bright

I feel him

drowned in a dark amalgamation

The touch of sin

makes his face lose sensation

I feel myself

drift away, to nowhere else

Something wrong with this poem?

Replies are closed for this poem.

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.