
white cut sleeves
I felt him
rise from his deep slumber
The new day shall begin
as the old day is numbered
He felt me
gravitate towards the light
I felt the need to be free
but it was too bright
I feel him
drowned in a dark amalgamation
The touch of sin
makes his face lose sensation
I feel myself
drift away, to nowhere else
This poem is about:
Me
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: