A suffocating surface
Whose thread-roots
Pierce my enemy's shields.
I stretch in fresh directions,
A green hunger
Engulfing living nature.
I grow to become Obsessed Moss,
Captivated by the deliciously shy sun-rays
That feed my addiction -
Their gold feathers can't fill me.
Nothing can stop me,
For I am all skin...Fleshless Moss
Thirsting for star highs!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is one of the first poems I have written that does not rhyme. The nature of the moss reminds me of a drug addict, who when truly hooked will stop at nothing to feed their addiction.
