The Final Vision
A Poem of Morbid Foresight
By Kourtney RisherPublished 6 years ago • 1 min read
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WaterSpirit by HaiweiHouL
I see it, not that far off into the abyss of the black shroud we call life.
It's a vision that is more visible as the years go by.
In the distance I see a tumor-bloated corpse floating down the river with rope burns around the neck.
The river is surrounded by trees.
The air is thick on a cold winter night that hell would welcome.
The body drifts down the river and into a cavernous lake.
Neptune swallows the body up and guards it from the world.
The world will not miss a man who doesn't want to be found.
He should not be missed.
No one should miss a broken man.
I see it, not that far off into the abyss of the black shroud we call life.
I see the day a familiar face loses his soul.
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About the Creator
Kourtney Risher
I'm a poet and an aspiring novelist from El Dorado, AR.
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