Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2014
My blood runs cold
My heart beats slow;
and I can see the world
groaning as it spins
upon the point
of a finger.

My pupils dilate
I fear it may be too late;
and trees are twisting
mouths are yawning
open to swallow
the stars.

My veins contract
Life no longer intact;
so far from the horizon
and that burning bright sun
dazzling my blind
creamy eyes.
Anastasia Webb
Written by
Anastasia Webb  Australia
   aashi, Emma and Mary Elizabeth
Please log in to view and add comments on poems