Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I'm seared, The red of passion drains To dark, dusty black The lingering oxygen teasingly close. I'm tired, Hacking coughs And over worked from nothing. You rubbed your eyes at the burning glare Of energy untamed. And now you leave When only my coals remain.
0
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 3:29 AM UTC
Coals
I'm seared, The red of passion drains To dark, dusty black The lingering oxygen teasingly close. I'm tired, Hacking coughs And over worked from nothing. You rubbed your eyes at the burning glare Of energy untamed. And now you leave When only my coals remain.
raegan-ballard
Written by
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 3:29 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem