Tamara Stamenkovic
Poetry,  Written literature | Author's writings

The depth

It’s getting closer,
takes me over,
it’s getting closer,
I lose control,
I glide between the depths;
the battle is approaching,
the picture is near.
I lose control,
the dark depth
takes over me.
My bones are burning,
hands sweating,
the light is lost,
the depth is waking up.
It pulls me down,
I slide between it.
I can’t breathe,
I can’t exhale;
the color of the blood changes,
blood freezes in the veins.
The veins cracks,
thoughts are scattered.
It’s getting closer,
takes over,
it’s getting closer,
I lose control,
it controls me.
There is no power,
there is no reason,
just the depth as
wrong curve,
loss in it,
and victory over it.
Depth and void,
at first sight the same,
but in-depth,
entirely different.

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