CrisSp is your Emergency Specialist at 37 thousand feet. A writer without a niche. Wonderwoman consumed by wanderlust!
Between the hour of six and seven in the evening
The dozing young woman fell into the hellhole
Nasty chain of events happening in the den
My heart freezes but who’s in trouble?
Maybe I should call to interrupt the climax
Too late, the situation is too deep
For the next chain of events
The guilty parties are into their signature dish.
The portrait on the wall fell onto the floor
And now the older woman’s face had her nose
Pointing to the ceiling and the aura of kindness
Now, replaced with the inexplicable uneasiness.
The portrait screams for dander and revenge
What have you done you fool, in between the holy hour
When the virtuous call praying?
Did you feel the heat while you’re in heaven?
Was the pleasure genuine without a tremor of doubt?
Or was it simply a reflex from the hour of excitement?
Tempting to hide the shame, a hot feeling rippled her soul
The artist’ mouth is dry, eyes wet and fingers shaking.
She tried to step into another world of dry grass
Wanting to escape but it was too late, she’s down into the hellhole.
Swiftly, the waves of tears and fear sets in
But to her wandering mind, there’s something nice.
Just like the blue bike from her friend at school.
What’s her name again? Emma, is it?
Who cares now? The play is over.
She’s now stiff but who will pay?
The portrait of a woman is now clout, chest punched!
So, what is she planning next?
It’s over! Welcome, welcome to my funeral.
It's next Friday between the hour of six and seven in the evening.
Read me: "The heart of my soul speaks to the soul of my heart by writing." ~ CrisSp/04-2018
RIP Avicii! I hope to meet you in heaven. Love~
Bring Me to Life!
© 2018 CrisSp