Poem Hunter
AS (20 Nov.1950 / Yerevan, Armenia)


You're drawn into the abyssal blankness
Wondering if that's afterlife or the irrevocable end
A new immaterial existence bordering on madness
Is virulent, and you're going slowly around a bend
Like a wingless bird, you make a frantic effort to float up
Mortal fear has aroused dormant predatory instincts
Your unfortunate flight is coming to an abrupt stop
And you hear the deafening noise of the boom sticks
You see a mournful being with a halo around the head
Mistaking him for a guardian angel, you give him five
The stranger gets hold of you, saying, ''You made your bed
Into the underworld we're gonna make a dive.''

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Comments (1)

I don't know what abyssal means and the rest of the poem is a good try but it doesn't succeed. If English is NOT your native tongue that would explain it. H