The wave crashes over me,
The biting cold eats at me.
I am becoming numb.
I am drifting away.
Pushes and pulls,
Tugs and jerks.
In a dazed state,
Something warm brushes past me,
But it is a fleeting sensation.
A minuscule flash of light
In the cold darkness.
Despite its absence,
I cling on to the memory of that light,
As though the thought of it...
...Would bring it back
Along with that warmth.
The warmth of which could pull me
From this eternal darkness,
And bring back life
To my limp body.
----
A/N
It's up to you guys how you take this story - literally or metaphorically - since I intended it to stand for whatever meaning the audience takes on. I have to admit that I struggled quite a bit with writing this as it's my first poem and honestly I'm not very sure what was going through my mind at this moment.
For those of you that actually have decided to read these stories, thank you so much! It means a lot to me to have anyone read any of these stories and I really could not care less if I got no votes or comments as long as I know that someone has taken the time to read my work.
YOU ARE READING
Short Stories
RandomA compilation of short stories. Some may be made into proper stories later on separately.
