Visions Of Hell: Part I Poem by Mark Earls

Visions Of Hell: Part I



Crowded tube, bare room to stand,
Stops the only air to hand.

Sea of faces ever changing,
Water-roar of half-heard sound.

Jungle heat and perspiration:
Such a common form of hell.

Thursday, November 30, 2006
Topic(s) of this poem: sea
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