The Plunge

As I fly through the sky,
I wonder if I will live or die.
Blood rushes from the thrill,
as I head to the icy chill.

My mouth opens in a silent scream,
like trying to wake from a dream.
Seeing visions of the past,
the thump in my chest feels like the last.

Plunging deep into the cold,
a feeling that can not be told.
Searching to surface for precious air,
gasping and thrashing with seconds to spare.

Eyes wide peering at the sky,
laughing and smiling from natures high.

The Plunge

Chris Mitchell

Evansville, United States

  • Artist
    Notes
  • Artwork Comments 1

Tags

poem

Artwork Comments

desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

10% off

for joining the Redbubble mailing list

Receive exclusive deals and awesome artist news and content right to your inbox. Free for your convenience.