Tiresome standing

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Motion is all relative, but sometimes yo

Submitted: June 02, 2008

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Submitted: June 02, 2008

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He stands there, alone,
As the world flies by.
Bleeding through darkness,
Feeling the wind brush,
And chill his skin.
Breath gone, exhausted
From merely standing.
But then, suddenly,
Voices crash around
Him like thunderclaps,
Something ensnares him
Forcing him to ground.
\"Why run with eyes closed
Though your own camp?\"
Lost in his breathing,
Mind beyond light..
Chuckles surround him.
\"They cannot get you
Whomever you run from.\"
He sees naught but dark
Mind scrambles, thinking
May I have been wrong?
Are my eyes open?

\"Come now, you are home.\"
But I don't see it \"Open them, old fool\"
He pondered and then
He let the light in...


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