Untitled

A shiver blows

sending cold air

up through my spine.

I run faster,

hearing the dogs coming closer.

I find a tree,

and climb up its trunk.

I stop on a branch.

Listening,

Watching,

for the beasts.

They went as quick as they came.

I jump out of the tree,

sprint for the sea,

get in my boat,

and flee.

Yes indeed,

this poem is not at rest.

Yes,

my plan was to flee,

but I did not succeed.

When running to my boat,

I saw those beasts.

I saw their killer eyes.

That's when they charged,

and I died...

Author's Note

I need some feed back (: