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Another dark and mysterious poem. They just keep coming. It's not too explicit, so much is left to your imagination.
Submitted:Feb 7, 2007 Reads: 176 Comments: 2 Likes: 0
A noise
A rustle
She is poised,
On the edge
It repeats
Louder now
She hugs the sheets
Eyes looking scared
Then it changes
To heavy footsteps
She feels strange
And insecure
It now draws near
Closer, closer
She begins to fear
Breathing faster
The door unlocked
A figure enters
She goes into shock
Cold and tense
The sound explodes
Shatters her ears
She finally implodes
The sound her own.
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Other writing by Corinne Smith Beautiful Serenity Discovering Christmas Joy Everlasting The Power of Words The Dining Room Table A Restoration of Faith