Howling winds bellow my name,
Welcoming me into its chilled arms.
Peacefully taking hold of my pressure.
Against my bronze skintoned neck,
I loop the becket into place;
Securing the other end to the branch.
Balancing myself, leaning over
To capture the bicolor dying grass.
Last time to breathe the autumn aroma.
Eyes closed, I perfectly jump.
Being pulled by gravity to a halt
Midair as life is taken away.
Conquering reality to be again
One with my Mother Nature;
Dangling freely above an earthen crust.
Returning Back Home
Originally posted on Mibba, this poem is about suicide. Only it is different. Told through the eyes of the victim...Did you like this poem? Write one of your own!
