The thick underbrush of the pine forest clawed at my face. The tendrils of crunchy grass stabbed at my uncovered feet. My body was aching, crying for some sort of semblance of clear air. I had been lost for days now, the mountains closing in. Frigid air clogged my pores as I charged forwards through the trees, hoping that I could be out soon. I stumbled over a rock, nearly falling off yet another steep ledge. Then, finally, I was out. The trees cleared away to reveal a pristine lake, pallid in the hazy moonlight. I thought I was finally free, that someone would be there. But as I stated at the looming mountains lying in the other bank of the lake, I realised that my hopes were to be crushed once again. All I could do was wait.
YOU ARE READING
Mmhmm I'm Bored
PoetryThose little things that pop into your head that you can't help but write down. I suppose it could be counted as freeform poetry-ish. Cover by the exalted @FableWrites.
