Last Walk

by Stephanie Naylor   Jan 1, 2010


My thoughts are swirling
with clips of your amazing visage whisked through it.

My body is trembling
with thoughts of your immaculate touch.

My breath is growing faster
and deeper as i feel you approaching.

Almost stopping the minute you stand
strong and commanding before me.

You take my hand tenderly,
yours so cold and pallid.

Following without fear,
the dark so consuming.

Our figures becoming specs
compared to the world.

As we take my
last walk alive.

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  • 8 years ago

    by Ray Smallshaw

    I find poems like this so sad and find it even hard for a young or old person to write such tragedy. Life is to precious to even write about living it let alone thing of ending it, Despair is a momentary thing life should last a lifetime for some it is short for other it is long so what ever you get you must make the most of it, most life reach a balance very few reach despair through the whole of their life so wait until the good appears.
    A though instilling poem which give a good to 4/5 Ray S