The Abyss

It's cold down here in the abyss, as I drift into the gloom,
The water grips me like an icy shroud of doom,
I feel its raw fingers creeping like a vice around my heart,
As I plunge deeper still into the unfathomable dark,
Every moment I try in desperate need to hold my final breath,
But the horrific realisation forms of this; my impending death

And just as I think the time has come to exit this mortal coil,
Out of a dark crevice, something strange makes me recoil,
Its face is pale with wizened flesh, its mouth a gapping maw,
It reaches out towards me with one dark abhorrent claw,
As it hooks me in its grasp, with something close to grace,
I feel it enfold me and pull me close, in a cold and dead embrace.

And deeper down towards the ocean's hidden depths,
It carries me like a precious hoard,
Crushing what little life is left, as it takes me to its Lord,
And all at once, the gloom dispels and opens to caverns wide,
Where a million such wizened faces of horrifying creatures reside,
Just a moment more in this ghastly place and my soul is finally free,
But I now realise in all my horror, that the wizened creature's me!

Colette hails from Warwick in Warwickshire. She loves writing poetry, particularly horror themed. During lockdown she took a short poetry writing course with Oxford University, to try and hone her skills. She feels like sharing some of her work.

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