A Little Halloween Poem Written By Myself Buried Alive And No Escape, By Jamie Oliver Jones Time ticked frantically, I had to act drastically, Shadows started to blur, the turbulence began to stir, The faint ticking from a distance, dragged on and on with perseverance. Noise, chaos, intensity, struck painful poundings to my head, Inside of me uncontrollably- anger had begun to spread Panic paralyzed my every muscle, Gnawing on all my attempts to tussle. I was trapped among the viciousness, The loathsomeness, hatred, spitefulness, Roaring in the midst of the commotion, He tugged his way without any caution. An intention glared from the sneer of his eye, Sweeping his way motivationally sly, But then it hit me finally, Who he was in search for, was really me, So fierce and brutal he seemed to be, He ripped his shirt off ruthlessly, Eyes so firm- I’d never seen, so determined and so intimately keen, But it was obvious; it was me he was hunting down, His eyes from green streamed to sinister brown, Blindingly bright lights illuminated the sinister dark field, I had found a route for escape, a big metal shield, The hectic booming of chaos, provoked by this massive vehicle, Stormed towards my direction as if they had seen a miracle, Cries, squeals, shouting ... tension started mounting. Attacked whilst weak, I begun to shriek, I closed my eyes, to realize, There was no escaping route, They stormed like an infuriated moot! I dig from below, the soil imbeded beneath my nails clawing, scratching.. Screams muffled by gulps of dirt soil trapped between my lips allowing no air my feet pushin the dirt back into the earth, shaking..twisting.. collapsing against the pushed in walls cant see, its dark no way out air supply almost used up. I see a small hole letting the night sky in. I keep digging,scratching my nails bleed as I push the last bit of dirt out of my way. My body frail and tired, I pull myself from the earth as if to be reborn my ribs and various body parts ache, I lay in the stillness of the night bare against the ground so limp closing my eyes and taking small deep breaths my thoughts adjust to reality because there is no worse feeling than being buried alive.
Posted on: Mon, 13 Oct 2014 04:40:51 +0000
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