The 6th Sense
Hong Kong Academy, Gwenyth Slaughter, Poetry: Group 3
The spreading of fear is as close as virulent mist through clear air,
Fear gets swallowed by the senses of ones body,
The taste is more brisk than cold blood gurgling up your throat,
It is though you breath in cold air for long periods of time,
The smell is vacant with no feeling it is just stark,
The sight is being blind,
An open space with no vanishing point,
the sound is just a cool breeze whistling around me,
With stories being carried in the wind which is the path from history,
and there is no touch, because when you have fear you are alone,
I feel a sixth sense,
When I am standing in fear,
I feel this burning in my heart,
Mixed signals on what to feel, because I can’t feel anything,
In the Gobi Desert what I feel in my heart just makes the body shut down,
The Gobi Desert is so empty that is the beauty,
It can not be mistaken by fear,
Its a quite void of history, with no way of showing it,
That is the fear, of not knowing,
but fear is not there,
It is the imagination on what happened throughout this wind,
The imagination is what happened throughout the soul,
WIthin each breeze it is a new tale of the Gobi Desert.
