My bruised heart

feels nothing.

I do not hear your voice.

My pulse is

as slow as death.

The minutes

feel like hours.

The ticking

of the clock

is like sand

dripping through

the hour glass

of my life.

The sun

is no longer present,

I cannot feel

it's golden fingers

of warmth,

Penetrating through

the dense fog of my life.

There is no direction,

no hope, only Darkness.

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Samantha Kraus's picture

I think we've all gotten to that point, where we feel there is no light at the end of the tunnel, but sooner or later, we reach that light, and appreciate it more than ever. This is a great poem. Keep up the good work.