A Touch of Healing Breath

A Garret Poet

Photo by Mikhail Nilov on Pexels.com

A Touch of Healing Breath
Form: Sestina

Looking down into the abyss,
The end of time, the final breath,
Too easy to just let go,
To fall into the wonder of nothing,
Too hard to let thoughts die,
Going nowhere but looking down.

Old-fashioned dreams spiral down,
Into the pools of an empty abyss,
Remnants of lust, longing to die,
Replaced by frustrated gasps of breath,
Awakening to emptiness – nothing,
And nowhere to go.

The urge to fade and go,
Before the heart lies battered down,
By the relentless sense of nothing,
That ceaseless abyss,
Left behind on dying breath,
To wait for the day to die.

Bended knees begging to die,
While pondering when to go,
And damned to draw another breath,
While life is churned upside down,
In the twisting of a sensual abyss,
Longing to feel – nothing.

Yet in…

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