Another year
Another slash on the sword above
It hangs from a string
I wonder when it'll fall
Will it be instant
Will it be slow
Will I see it coming
Or shall I be caught unaware
I try to not dwell
In future matters
But every day
My clock ticks closer
The whispers say it's coming
Maybe I'll get tired
Maybe I'll cut it myself
Finish the job
Until then however
I will wait
And lose myself within the crowds
And enjoy the only life I've ever known
YOU ARE READING
Barely breathing
PoetryJust words that can't pass my lips but will go through my head until they fall onto paper. Every single one of these are my original pieces.
