fighting for survival
Learn more about other poetry terms
This world is survival of the fittest
and I don't think I'm the biggest
just a lowley rabbit running from a wolf
waiting because I know I'm not the grimmest
Autumn dies and the cold dark wind blows once more
The panther rises and the shadows again is graced
The leaves drop and a desire is born
A light birth now shall it be buried
A situation of dire need and stress
On a deserted island a man is found as a mess
He has nothing neither here nor there
Except a ragged old book he has as spritual fare
Should he read such a despised old text?
The bleeding gives language to a
Pain I can't place words on.
So deep I can't feel it
I've become it.
It both consumes me and has composed me
And I am devoured by my own teeth.
