I saw your face. Not twice, but once
I turned and scrambled from the hunt
I was your prey. A gaping maw
Closed upon submarine hull
Metal creaked and cracked and bent
As slowly teeth began to rend
What little hope was left inside
To drown again in depths defied
Terror struck. It struck again
Spirits walking down the glen
In seconds split I broke in two
While scattered with the morning dew
I ran and ran from the hunter's eyes
While seeking out the hunted's prize
I stopped and weary, caught my breath
To be embraced by soulless death.
YOU ARE READING
sometimes
PoetryA collection of mentally ill poems about the world, written by a mentally ill person. Perfect if you're into abstract or freeform poetry. New updates come at random times, but expect slightly consistent updates at least once a week or so! Top 10 in...
