Cornucopias

Cornucopias

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, Dec 19, 2014
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Poetry
for my life is just a vapor that sometime will be gone. and i will be taken from this world and my name will soon be forgotten, as well as my body will be buried and my soul will be reunited with its Creator. my breath will be a history to none.
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Broken

I close my eyes. I'm not going to die. I'm not going to die. Suddenly, I feel my stomach drop and my head start to spin. I try to scream, but nothing comes out. I try to breathe, but my mouth is dry. The sickening feeling continues for about a minute, then it stops. I open my eyes; I'm not dead... Yet.

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