As I run for life the shadow follows,
The noise of footsteps echoing in the hollows.
As I feel my time running out,
I begin to lose my heart of stout.
These rustles follow me into the slum,
What an unwanted sign of the pain to come.
A place of hiding I seek for surprise,
Though it might be the space of my cruel demise.
Finding it i prepare for attack.,
Then inevitable pain digs deep into my back.
Lying here motionless facing the sky,
I see the shadow was smarter than I.
Cherishing the warmth of surrounding crimson,
I move not... only thinking, as if held in a prison.
The shadow and darkness take me.
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Whenever I have an idea for a line or theme that can be used for a poem I write it down in a notebook. The poems found here are organized bodies that have been pieced together using those fragments. Most of the writing I do is created from smaller ideas that seem to fit together.
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