The night grows cold
Days are short
Light grows weak
Time goes quick
Memories fade
Shadows creep and
Blood seeps through
Tears fall
Hearts break
Scars resurface
Pian returnes
The quiet comes
As voices fade
The face goes white
The hands go cold
Bruises appear
The numb talkes hold
Consusness subsides
With one last breath
I fade out of existence
In to the cole hands of death.
Tonja
What did you think
Comments
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that is really good i like that alot
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Great poem! Very vivid and a great read.
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