I’m drowning
Not figuratively
But really…
The water covers me
I kick my legs
Yet nothing works
I keep sinking
Very soon
I’ll be out of air
My feet touch rock
And it releases
Something inside
I can move now
I bend my legs
Arms forward
With renewed hope
I spring upward
And as I do
I begin to see light
In the murky depths
It brightens
The higher I go
Only one spot
On the surface
Shines like diamonds
And I aim for it
I burst thru
Breaking the facade
The humanness
The sinful
I look up
Gasping for air
And the hand
That takes mine
Moves as it
Pulls me
To safety
It’s the only
Air I need
I breathe deeply
And can finally
See the face
That rescued me
Jesus, my Lord
About the Creator
Linda Bromley
Just one of many creative outlets for me has been books! My whole life I’ve loved them and it’s so easy to make the jump to writing.
Recently I completed a poetry challenge and now, looking for more excuses to write, I’ve found myself here!
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Message Me Afterwards
>That was a bad idea. I thought you knew… >Oh, the pathos! I don’t really know you as well as I should. In fact, I may not know the real you at all. That essential, sparkling you that you only reveal to a select few. Had I been paying more attention to the stories you are so fond of telling, in which you are invariably author, narrator and protagonist, I would not have been so foolish as to set you up on a blind date. After all, no friend has ever done anything of the kind for another. That’s preposterous. What is a friend, really?
By D. J. Reddall4 days ago in Fiction
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