Mask

by sarah   Nov 8, 2006


The sun rises,
Yellow disguises,
Falling down a blackened well
Holding my breath, who can tell?
Green bottles smash against my face
Slowly breaking, unravelling like lace
The roaring fire to hard to contain
Strips my strength to turn insane
Whispered promises turn to ash
Until it leaves an angry gash
Grey translucent smoke
Billows upon a dying oak

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Latest Comments

  • 17 years ago

    by xxSilentlyScreamingxx

    Great poem, really enjoyed it...i love the line 'whispered promises turn to ash'...very nice indeed.
    Amy x

  • 17 years ago

    by Jenni Marie

    I enjoyed this, wonderful work!

  • 17 years ago

    by Gem

    Not the ususal of style i poems i like to read but i have to admit that this has a certain tone to it i like =)
    Your words are very strong and entice the reader really well.
    Well done indeed!
    5/5
    *Gem*

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