It’s a mere little crack, somewhere close.
You don’t know how deep, how far it goes.
It pulls, moans, stretching as you breathe-
Infringing cold, like daggers unsheathe.
The blue of the chill congeals and spreads,
In thin, green veins, from extremes, inwards;
The blood rushes hot, struggling, gasping life
Red tears, dripping from the gap, battle to survive.
Shadows take over, blind, every thing comes crashing-
But in stubborn hope, that dying thing, goes on beating.
Maverick Misfit 
Beautiful poem. “But in stubborn hope, that dying thing, goes on beating.” No words to describe these words. Loss of words for me.
I was going to write this reply to your comment on my post “Disgusting”. But I want to repeat here just in case you don’t have time to re-look at that post of mine.
Guria, you are an out of the box thinker. You are brilliant. You are not only a maverick. You are also a trail-blazer. I agree Colin can be part of a country and protest. Thanks for pointing out that to me.
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I’ll definitely be getting back to your blog, and more. It’s good to see my favorite writers/blogging still at it… Me, I am trying to keep at writing/reading/blogging 🙂
(Those adjectives, thank you…!!!)
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