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| Topic: Last Breath | |
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My fingers grip with fear,
What am I doing here, I look, To find its my soul they've took, Emptyness fills me, To the point of agony, My death is creeping upon me, so horrid I wish not to see, I feel the heavy chains, Causing so much pain, The red blood flowing down my face, going at a steady pace, its getting so cold, As all the lies unfold, I see my death, As I take my last breath. |
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welcome
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Welcome . . . nice write
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Thanks. I write all my stuff in the moment and off the top of my head
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welcome....
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