better read outloud
No sign of time, no church bells tolled
No sign of time but the growing cold
My feet begin to feel like metal
as I stumbled through a forest vast.
Trudging by trees and stinging nettle
Dripping shadows darkly cast
constellations unable to be read
The walk was as long as i have known
No past behind No future ahead
Only me forever alone
No sign of time, no church bells tolled
No sign of time, but the growing cold
Then In my chest i felt sunlight
I stumbled in a blissful daze
I would be the sun’s devoted acolyte
And lay my body down in praise
In thanks for a newfound lack of dread
I would find peace there lying prone
No past behind no future ahead
Only the cold forever alone
When wrighting this I had to try too copy Edgar Allen Poe's style for a creative wrighting assignment. I ened up pretty proud of this poem. Proud enough to make this page to host it and my hypothetical future work. I know that I will probably think it's cringe and not very good when I look back on it but for now im happy with how it turned out. It's based partacally on me reading that before you die of hypothermia you feel warm, in a book when I was a kid (im pretty sure it was Holes) and decied to never check the acuracy of that.
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