My Intimate Poetry: Medusa.

Hello lovely readers, how would you like to have a brand new poem? In the midst of all the painful editing, I was struck with inspiration for a new batch of rhythm and rhyme to bring you this lovely afternoon. Enjoy!

What happens when the souls turns cold? ― Tammy-Louise Wilkins.

Within these slender veins
The blood turns cold
Pulsing in soft despair
As frost inspissates its stream

A chill is beckoned to my flesh
Sweeping across it with bitterness
Donning ashen for colour
Depicting the numbness of my emotion

With each icy caress
My heart does harden
The fragments enveloped in a frigid embrace
As it’s stricken by the bite of dejection’s breeze

Will this day of desolation meet its demise?
The departure of self-deprecating anguish
Or will it become perpetual?
Withstanding until I lay withered from this winter

2014 © Tammy-Louise Wilkins


  1. That was beautiful! You're so talented Tammy!



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