PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Compressed between beaming lines- blind,

Searching reflection of opposite shine;

Irrelevant light’s scorching my eyes so I

See no sight, no rhythm, no guide.



So deep inside into the pouring white,

The nest of none, of never done and jolt

A twinge of absent air, of fear to last-

I’m lost among transparent gusts.



My tolerance is draining out

Revolving concentration rounds;

For ground I’m reaching to less my flesh,

And melt me under into a worm surrounding.



The only way my colorblind syndrome will fade

And simply then I’ll end to see your teasing hand.

My eyes are closed in which I’m saved.

I have no feel, no pain, no shredded skin, no broken nails.