I found him in a sea of grass,
in golden leaves and wet soilThe moonlight reflected off his naked spine,
milky ivory flesh exposed to the night skyHis breathing was feint,
his eyes closed tightA spider crawled up his exposed shoulder,
but he had no energy to brush itOff and away,
the cries of birds in the distanceThe air of the forest is thick with ice,
his bare torso twists in on itself with a shiverHe is unconscious and cold,
so far from home
YOU ARE READING
A world unlike your own
PoetryNot poetry, just words. My world is different to yours. Here's a slither of it. Come find me Best rankings: #1 in Poembook #1 in Therapeutic #3 in Thoughts #29 in Poetry