Treasure Island

Maelea Mercado


Under the ice


The warm day melts the snow
But as the freezing wind blows
The ice grows
Smooth and slick
Larger and larger its so thick
Walking on it i try not to slip
I get to the middle and take an unexpected dip

The frigid water chills my bones
And hanging on only postpones
The inevitable death we know will come
My fingers tingle and go numb
I slide under and water fills my lungs

I feel the wet sand beneath me
And i try to see
But salt burns my eyes
Why am i still here?
Its been an hour, the end should be near

Its so cold
And I've started to mold
I realise with shock
I look like nothing more than a rock
I have been dead for quite awhile
My mouth fills with bile
I have been here a year
Yet none have appeared

Submitted: Friday, January 25, 2013

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