The door, large and black
Foreboding, forewarning.
Silently swinging
No sound, no light
A gust of wind, cold, freezing
Swirls about
Screaming as it hurtles
me into the void
Falling,
Falling,
Falling
The blackness tangible, impenetrable
The wailing,
(falling)
whimpering of lost souls,
my screams,
becoming one.
Falling…
Is there no end?
my soul despairing.
No love - no hope
(falling)
no escape
The cold freezing me
Bit by bit, blood, muscle, bone,
My scream.
Falling,
Falling,
Falling
Falling,
striking,
shattering,
a myriad of pieces,
Lost forever.
Pam Smith
1998