Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2015 · 3.1k
Untitled
The moors are cold and dark this morning.
Rain Drips like diamonds onto the grass.
My thoughts long to be captured by the cold winds,
And taken far far away.
But,
They fester inside my head.
Like a disease with no cure.
The cold wet darkness that surrounds me,
Is my only comfort now.
Maybe I could lie here and
                           fade fade
Away

— The End —