It draws you in
Like a soft embrace of warm sand,
On a bitter, cold day.

Soon before you realise,
It’s pulling you,
Ready to consume you whole,
Quicker and quicker,
The more you panic.

Now it’s too late.
Out of control,
Not knowing what to do,
How to get out of this mess,
Till you are lost
And there’s nothing left but quicksand.

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