A last rebellious scream is torn from the frail body of the child,
As pale, sullied fingers are torn from the crumbling ledge,
A tear falls down the pit before the child’s sickly body falls,
The light and shine vanishing from her eyes,
And a sunken look as hope gives way to terror,
Darkness engulfing her world,
A chill deeper than bone and flesh and even spirit,
Wide eyes stare into darkness, no longer expecting to see.

The child’s soul reaches out for the last time for help,
But in the silence it joins her body in hopeless sorrow,
Limbs collapsing in upon themselves in anguish,
The loss of time in the never-ending fall,
Whips of cold air lashing out upon her descent,
A shaking sob as the will to live gives way,
Disappearing into the dark and chilling chasm.

 
Copyright © windowbox, All Rights Reserved