Natures TongueA Poem by Mark WitterickThe green sea slithers slowly, Onward. Consuming all in its path.
The scorching sun searing down Simply, fuelling its search. Surrender impossible for it knows no words Hears no voices and Heeds no laws.
Escape is futile, Safety unknown.
Its sight when absorbed, Is almost always; Lost.
Vibrant with colour Carrying a colossus; Of death.
Fuelled by endings. Yet this cycle, Still spinning, Never truly stops. © 2016 Mark Witterick |
StatsAuthorMark WitterickUnited KingdomAboutI am a person I believe. I make stuff. I like feedback. more..Writing
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