Reach
On a cliff hanging over the sea
The wind dances so wild and free,
And as I am one not to believe,
Not much in the fantasy's,
I find myself falling slow and steady,
Like a rag doll.
Falling to the cold harsh waves,
The wind whistling past,
Like screams of the dead,
My eyes forever opened
And gazing to the sky.
Catching one last glimpse
of the gentle stars,
one hand up as though to catch them,
Then without a person around to hear,
The cold sea presses in on me.
It consumes me without a trace
as I sink to the bottom,
like a feather being tossed by the air,
Wishing for someone's hand to dart out and to pull me to safety.
Though it never comes,
I wait for that one person,
Brave enough to save me
From the dark and empty sea.
This Poem does belong to me and yes I did make it.
On the picture I colored it in but made the wings myself.
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