Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2014
My lids heavy like mountains as they creep up against the sea; Laden with sand that courses down my face. Sand dunes fill my palms as I burn; Hot and eternal. A bright flame in an even brighter place but there is no place to breathe. The dry air pulls all the vitality from my aching skin and robs me of all life. As my bones turn to rock and the rocks turn to sand and the sand returns to the sea; For thus I am reduced. Joint after joint collapses till my journey is carried on by my eyes who trod on; Perishing soon after to the moon; Vanquished by the stars.
Quinn
Written by
Quinn  22/F/Purgatory
(22/F/Purgatory)   
  800
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems