𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 (𝐏𝐨𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐲)

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐥

A doorway reflecting back a thousand times
As I gaze briefly into my own eyes, the object sliding out of my hands, out of my power and control entirely,
Whispers about seven years bad luck
That is nothing more than a rumour I assure myself, it must be,
As the glass shatters into a million fragmented shards on the floor, falling as though time is an unmoving river silent and still

I stare down in horror at the sight at my feet
Hours pass or so I fear and so I feel a tingling prick, a drop of bright scarlet, it enters my vision emerging slowly from my hands,
It reaches the ground, a deep crimson trickling slowly down my fingertips and over the pieces of my older, better life.

I gasp in horror as I watch the scene unfold, simultaneously in multitudes of scattered splinters of the original, unified image of myself.

Seven years of bad luck they say, and it seems the curse had just begun.

-Alex

(Not about nature I'm aware but my other book of poetry is mostly random poems that don't have as much depth as this one, which is why it is in this book)