Run from the swarms

Trapped.
Their cold glances pinning me,
Beckoning yells echo
As I fail to flee.

Swarmed.
A mass of unprecedented heat,
Collecting around me for I am a fresh kill
And they hunger for meat.

Noise.
Bickering laughter and pointed jabs,
Drinks being swallowed
As I try to keep tabs.

Duck.
Under their swerving arms, I race,
Yells of disapproval persist
But I do not alter my pace.

Away from their swarming mass,
I am free.

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One Comment Add yours

  1. nice flow of words….

    Like

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