The world is spinning
Spinning round and round
Faster, faster, faster
Too fast!
Still spinning, everything a blur
Nothing makes sense anymore.
The colors have morphed together,
the shapes have dissolved.
Light and dark, god and bad,
black and white.
All indistinguishable.
Alas.
And yet the spinning continues.

The spinning has become too much;
everything is off-balance.
Tilting, tilting, tipping
Fallen.
Free falling through space,
no stop in sight.
Through the terror, the spinning, the nothingness,
shines the thrill.

When all seems lost,
the spinning too much,
the free fall too long,
the pressure too fierce,
sometimes all one can do
is sit back, let go,
ride the ride,
and embrace the
thrill.

Want to comment on this Poetry? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Poetry and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...