Thursday, 11 April 2013

Tumult






Sitting there, motionless.
Disappoint washing over like a tsunami.
Drowning in the tidal waves.
Staring ahead: everything is empty.

Nothing can be seen, no future.
Numb shock rolling through the veins, like sludge.
Cheeks stained, dry tears leave their mark on pale skin.
Expressionless.
Why fight when there's no winning?


1 comment:

  1. wow...I'm not sure it was intended, but the structure (along with the words, yes) of the poem totally reflects the state of your mind. It's brilliant. Though I do not appreciate the attitude, dearie!

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