Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
It was only the moon that revealed a pit of despair. An oxygen breath of no hope. Lingered, murky the mist of solitude and deep cavern farewells. The heart beats in tar blood. Purist dark lips, sidekicked by eyes bullet coal black. Piercing. Chimes distant echoes of foot lite, as present as the heavy still mist water. A few strands, only a few...whistle lightly like amateur times. It is not in this moment of Adrian Von Ziegler that she looks forward, But in the precious dark seconds for why she looks back.
0
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 8:49 AM UTC
Forevermore
It was only the moon that revealed a pit of despair. An oxygen breath of no hope. Lingered, murky the mist of solitude and deep cavern farewells. The heart beats in tar blood. Purist dark lips, sidekicked by eyes bullet coal black. Piercing. Chimes distant echoes of foot lite, as present as the heavy still mist water. A few strands, only a few...whistle lightly like amateur times. It is not in this moment of Adrian Von Ziegler that she looks forward, But in the precious dark seconds for why she looks back.
daniel-lee-waajid
Written by
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 8:49 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem