Leaping from the precipice,
A heart pounding, a reckless bliss.
The wind whispers secrets in his ear,
As he soars through the air, without fear.
The world below, a tiny speck,
As he dances on the wind's deck.
A moment of freedom, pure and wild,
A salto into the unknown, a child.
About the Creator
Moharif Yulianto
a freelance writer and thesis preparation in his country, youtube content creator, facebook
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More stories from Moharif Yulianto and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Devil's Cut
“Comrade, finally you’re awake.” The voice was smooth, sensual. A flickering incandescent bar was all that lit the white, sterile room. All Vladimir remembered was everything going black. He tried to move his arms and found them strapped to the gurney.
By Matthew J. Fromm7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
This was well written. I love the imagery you created and the sense of freedom it produced.
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