I fly through miles of riscidden wasteland
The lapesces of my dress lost in the ghostly wind
I clutch my tatted heart with soft but desperate hands
One whisper from the depths of the grodge could save me
But it won’t
The grodgeons wish me dead
So instead I sink
Slowly to the ground
My personal thockran in hand
Complete, but cracked
I hug it close
It seems to understand
And then we both let go
I made up a few words for this poem. I’m curious how you would define them – what do you think they mean?
Advertisements
What I thought from this poem was that you are running away from something to save something else that you have and then you had to let go of it. It’s a nice poem bringing words to life…I could imagine what was happening. Hope i got it right😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love that interpretation! I like to make things vague enough that people can apply and interpret in their own way. You’re spot on!
LikeLike