Within an hourglass,
blood was dripping as
The brass frame coiled
around your arm;
passed your tremors
through the thickened liquid
as pulses of fear gulped it down.
Your blue numb fingers
while you slowly
turn over your hand.
**For anyone reading this, if you would like to leave some constructive criticism I am happy to accept it.**
Oooh yes you are right mirror and turn should be the same tense. I know there is always something to fix, and I trully want people to point them out for me only then I can grow:)
Thank you sooo much, I mean it!!
This poem is set out to make the reader take it's own path. The way you give just enough for everyone to understand but in there way is really clever.
Id like to heard your own explanation of this piece.
For me sleep paralysis is what game to my mind. Time still gong with the blood spilling .