One Step
A tower of spitting might
rises;
The spew of salted daggers
plunge,
like stinging pricks.
A lone, frail figure
sways;
Head flung back,
Arms outstretched,
Drab gray rags
whip around to swathe
a skeletal cage.
The shriek of the thunderous tempest
rages;
The pounding of blood and waves,
against flesh and rock,
crescendos.
On a harsh, jagged cliff,
Thrust upwards to smite
the writhing sky,
an emaciated hand reaches,
withered from waste;
A step of faith,
A fall to hell,
The waters converge
And then all is made well.
*So for those of you who didn't catch it... he committed suicide.
YOU ARE READING
A Time to Weep
RandomJust like so many others, it's a collection of my poetry and short stories. A look into my heart, and I'm sharing it with you. You'll know the person behind the stories, what makes me who I am. The title is taken from the Bible, beautiful verses. Go...
