Eyes, wide,
Devour and,
In their own right
As she, trips across
Black tar, still wet,
Sticky concrete, sinking sand
swallowing and,
losing breath
In the corner of a dark street,
A lion, without it's fur
without it's roar,
stalks a sheep,
It's prey
because sheep, mindless beasts would
walk into their own deaths
with smiles, because,
perhaps
it was it's purpose
YOU ARE READING
Existent
PoetryHighest rank: #23 In poetry. A compilation of Poems about love, heart break, depression and everything in between really. Black, white, and of course, a dose of grey.
