Slipping

She is holding on by a strand.

As her mind slowly starts cutting away at her soul.

Each second she sees the light go away and into the black hole filled with darkness.

Is there any rope for her to pull on to not fall into the hole?

Each time the precious light in her heart goes dim.

Soon there will not be a reason for it to beat.

There will be no life left coming from the heart.

Soon all there will be is coldness.

As the body lays dead on the floor.

Where was the rope when she needed it?

Comments: 12

Bernard C. Jan 13, 2013, 7:55am UTC

When life puts you at the end of your rope or tether then it's time to wake up? Quite a joke really! An interesting perspective, though to be more living, one has to be alive in order to be awake. Seriously, if the current mode does not suit anyone then would make a suggestion as to a change of scenery and complete surroundings for it is the only way to anything other than that which denies, defies and sustains even makes things very uncomfortable. They say change is as good as a rest.

Thank you for sharing and submitting to
The Surreal Circus.

Christina Williams Jan 13, 2013, 10:13am UTC

You are right

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JOHN BECK Jan 13, 2013, 7:56am UTC

She doesn't need a rope, because I'm there to catch her and take her by the hand to climb the steep hill and watch the sunrise.

Priya P. Jan 13, 2013, 9:58am UTC

Aww that's so sweet

Christina Williams Jan 13, 2013, 10:13am UTC

Thanks John

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Betty S. Jan 13, 2013, 9:48am UTC

Very good Christina..

Christina Williams Jan 13, 2013, 10:14am UTC

Thanks

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Priya P. Jan 13, 2013, 3:36pm UTC

I see my comment got gobbled by gather.

Lovely poem. I hope a work of fiction. If not, I do know what that is like, I too have once hung on by a strand and was pulled to safety. Your poem speaks volumes.

Featured with grace in the The Surreal Circus.