Sunday, October 17, 2010


Arms and limbs grow numb,

as the air turns cold.

Lazily it falls,

sliding from above.

Wrists struggle in ache,

nasty, evil clasps!

Your hopeless mouth shrieks,

as destiny moves down.

Slicing back and forth,

slow torture of death.

Such fortune, the heart,

collapses in fright!

(c) Phoenix Montoya @October 2, 2010