deepundergroundpoetry.com

Four Days

 

I have four days to find
fire's flavor but i'm still
spitting mire.

I want to brave this abyss,
unclip my harness and fall...
no, flow.

I picture a warm glow, the golden
ambrosia that could quell
my longing.

I peer in, fitfully predict cold slams,
so remain huddled at the rim
of irrational wishes.







Written by Atakti
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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