It's getting cold

Spontaneous poem, i dont know how to feel about that

He doesn't know he can

Not unusual, raised his chin

And his beating couldn't stand

Bursting through the night.

Snow bursting on his skin.

Floating in the twilight.

Trying to tear a page aside.

Too paralyzed for agitation.

Restricted sight, but panorama wide.

Everything is getting old.

Boasting ultimately needs resignation.

The past life's wake is getting cold.

Reviews

[Wórdsmíth]

Quiet impressive imagery i`ve see around your incense in disguise of your insights. Good to read!

[Patricia]

Thank you!!! :)