close-by, a siren calls, shrieks bleed into the night
let the stars witness her final breath
episodes have passed her by
aliens wouldn't have minded her
nocturnal creatures begin to stir
unleash my chest from its eternal prison
poetry tends to leave as soon as it's written
you think she's still alive, doc?
occurrences like these happen every day
usually you're able to bring them back, though
reversing her plight is not a simple task, son
heading to the stars, they've greeted her with happy smiles
eternity in the void, drifting, voice silenced by the emptiness
assuring her wordlessly turns out to be difficult
reality was not the same as it was, but
time moves on, with or without her
YOU ARE READING
this fantastical world is too surreal (poetry #5)
Poetry"a rustle crackles underneath jackboots crossbow tight in hand she breathes one final breath before he pulls the trigger" you know the drill
