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Published: 2003-10-01 19:59:15 +0000 UTC; Views: 67; Favourites: 0; Downloads: 17
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Description
Locked up in the darkened room of fear with no way of getting out.Panic is no option in her mind.
Facing the two biggest decisions in her life:
Die alone in a blanket of darkness or try to survive off of unhappy thoughts.
The only thought in her scared mind is death.
She needs to be rescued.
Crying for help because she cant do it alone.
But the cry isnt enough.
No one can hear her plea.
Never loved enough.
Heart broken so small, crumled into dust.
Pain and unhappiness are her best friends.
Waiting to see a light.
Ready to open a door.
Lungs suffocating with anticipation.
Hope is never coming.
Death is on its way.
Fear set off at any sign of love or compassion.
Life ending sooner than anyone thinks.
Blood still slowly flowing through her body.
She wants it to stop.
She wants to not exist any longer.
Using what little light there is from the cracks in hte rotting walls, she tries to find a way out.
A shiny blade brings a smile to her pale sunken face.
Holding a key to hell.
A hell waiting to become her unearthly prison.
Catching every glint of light as the blade sinks into her ivory skin.
Tears swell in her deep green eyes.
Dark red becomes a liquid glove on each delecate hand.
Laying on the flat of her back, her laughing turns into a faint giggle, then she is silenced.
Ready to be welcomed into her prison.
She closes her swollen, tearfull eyes never to open them again.
Her body soft, never to move again.
Suddenly, a door in the room opens.
Lovely white fills the room.
Her rescuer unknown, her rescuer came to late.
For now she is in a new hell where she will wait.
Still thinking she can be saved.
Never knowing that if she waited a few more moments of unwanted pain, she could have been saved.
But now she is living in a new hell, never knowing that someone had tried to save her.
Nevr knowing who her rescuer could have been.
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Comments: 9
Kespeadooksit [2003-10-18 20:54:40 +0000 UTC]
Wow so mind blowing. Such powerful emotions and images!
"Dark red becomes a liquid glove on each delecate hand." That, I think is the most powerful line. And it has the strongest imagery. Love this poem sooo much! You are so very talented!
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Volcom-Chick In reply to Kespeadooksit [2003-10-19 17:05:59 +0000 UTC]
Thank you. I dont remember when I wrote this one, but every image I wrote down, I could see it in my head. It was trippy.
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ALPSMAC [2003-10-12 23:29:43 +0000 UTC]
wow... how sad. I like your style... you are very narative, something I am not so good at in poetry. I don't know what faith you have, if any, so I don't mean to offend here... the ending of the poem could totally be used as a means of decipleship... a message that to lead your life, loving God, and then to die, by His hand, and not your-own, is a far better way to live. Anyway, just my thoughts.
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Volcom-Chick In reply to ALPSMAC [2003-10-13 21:33:32 +0000 UTC]
Thanx for the comment, I appreciate it lots,
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six-feet-under [2003-10-01 22:10:58 +0000 UTC]
Dark red becomes a liquid glove on each delecate hand.
oohh....chills! if you spelled delicate right it would be fantastic!
you know i can relate to this stuff....i'm lovin it.
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