Falling...
Falling...
Every bit of will she possessed,
she started calling,
it didn’t help, she was still falling,
her train of thought scattered,
her concentration shattered,
and the air tore at her
as she plummeted down,
and the only thing coming fast
was the rocky ground,
then there was a bang and a pop,
the wind seemed to stop,
she felt her body lifting,
crazy images kept sifting
through her mind,
then she floated away,
like a feather in an updraft,
angelic music would play,
reality would sway,
there was nothing hiding,
and in the wind
she just kept riding.
© 2011 Frank Atanacio