STORYMIRROR

Bella Bolbecker

Abstract Fantasy

3  

Bella Bolbecker

Abstract Fantasy

I Am Pompeii

I Am Pompeii

1 min
317

Lava runs through her tired veins and smoke pours from her glossy eyes,

I hold her hand and search for a pulse desperately as she cries,



A thick grey cloud of smoke appears overhead and begins to clog our skies,

She rests her fragile head upon my shoulder and we whisper our goodbyes.


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Similar english poem from Abstract