Sunday, September 1, 2013

The Final Step

The sky roared aloud
While she sat there astound
A day had gone
Of the summer forlorn
The drops now touching
Her velvety skin
The day the wind
Stood still
Her thoughts still
The smoke lifted up
Like its trait
Another drag of death
She thinks about her
Final bed
Is it too soon?
OR maybe not
There comes a whisper
Saying never to give up
But the world isn't
meant for her she says
The truth too much
for her to take
She wishes everything to forget
But no
She thus takes her Final Step.