Thunder looming overhead
the springtime of my demise
draws nearer with each breath
to the point I can no longer bear it
The seething vantage point stares back
with hollow, crimson eyes
until the voice of despair
cackles with unbridled disdain
The world as I knew it is ending
as the grave calls to me in my unfit sleep
my arms grow weary from the fight
my strength is nothing now
So I smile and nod
and, without a single word,
gather stones to throw in into the storm
when my bright chasm is over.
Copyright: 2010, by Raymund Diaz Delizo
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