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forty2 — The tomb
Published: 2004-10-01 11:48:26 +0000 UTC; Views: 111; Favourites: 0; Downloads: 6
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Description
I can see not out of the room so confinedThe windows boarded, the light is blocked
Darkness presses at me from every side
Its cold fingers sending shivers down my spine
Each breath a panicked hiss that issues from my taxed lungs
The silence is pure, complete, all encompassing
I dare not make a sound
My limbs ache from tension of being suppressed
The cold settles inexorably over my heart
"Will I survive the night", I ask myself
Trapped as I am inside my own tomb
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Comments: 6
How odd it is for you to have described my home in great detail (of course I know it wasn't intentional) and yet I do not feel my home in your poem. It just shows how much you can influence a mind to think with your poetry. I do love this poem... though now I do wonder if I'll start thinking about my own home this way. I can not see past my window and I can not be out. We have dimmed lights and for money, our heat is not on. Yet I feel much solace in my home. As cold as it may be, I have solace here. I do indeed love this. It is a cliched view of darkness and a tomb of our own lives and homes (for it is true that everyone is trapped one way or another in the confinement of their own homes). I love this piece. Please keep it up.
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Thank you very much for the kind words of encouragement.
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sorta reminds me of my life..... *adds to faves*
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Thanks for the comments and the fave.
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