Euphoric...

Euphoric...


I heard the droning,

moaning,

of the dead spirits far away,

their sorrows would play,

as my hand moved toward my throat,

lingering there as the cries grew,

I drew

a small, slow breath,

as death

slowly wandered,

then anticipation rose in my chest,

the strange, euphoric energy was my test,

filling me with endless haunts,

endless taunts,

but it made me bold,

my blood ran cold,

I was restless,

but not without courage,

it turned me into someone else,

so I jumped,

the building was high,

and like a bird I’d fly,

then there was no sound,

as I violently hit the ground.



© 2011 Frank Atanacio

More by this Author


Comments 2 comments

carol3san profile image

carol3san 5 years ago from Hollywood Florida

Both poems are very sad, but I guess that can't be helped because you are talking about suicide. But still, they are very well written.


Frank Atanacio profile image

Frank Atanacio 3 years ago from Shelton Author

thanks Carol for reading

    Sign in or sign up and post using a HubPages Network account.

    0 of 8192 characters used
    Post Comment

    No HTML is allowed in comments, but URLs will be hyperlinked. Comments are not for promoting your articles or other sites.


    Click to Rate This Article
    working