PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

At remains of the bridge, she stood; looking out across the void that once connected Victor Island to the world beyond its borders. What was suppose to be a sanctuary for the living, was found to be a desolate graveyard; a prison that now held her within is walls. Only the midnight wind offered any comfort, as it wrapped its cold, numbing arms around her. On her soft, pale face, it kissed her gently, as if to kiss away the exhaustion and the scars she carried.