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by Justi Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Death · #858854
A rush for autonomy.
Prevailed winds tear the pages from my time,
An inferno wraps up life,
It takes my faith,
It drains of hope.
Encircles and leaves me…
Alone with myself and my gun.
Towering above me,
I see my only comrade, death.
It hides within a metal shell,
Waiting for a placid touch of flesh,
It waits for a pull and push,
Awaits the access to a tired mind.
Only then will I feel content,
Only then will I be free…
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