deepundergroundpoetry.com
Grand confines P2/2
Unease is heavy and doubt high. I'll never close the door opened too many times. Never can I stop myself from walking through the creaking frame once more.
Perhaps not
This time was the last, I have sworn to myself of that. I am not trapped in a prison of stone and metal. I am not encased in a pitch black fog, of with entering results in being digested slowly by supernatural being of pitiful sorts.
I am not blind to the outside world - just walking passed closed curtains that blindfold cracked panes of glass and splintered wood.
I take my fist and throw it at the barrier of this evil circus ... As the pieces fall to the muddied sludge - I stop crying and look up.
Perhaps not
This time was the last, I have sworn to myself of that. I am not trapped in a prison of stone and metal. I am not encased in a pitch black fog, of with entering results in being digested slowly by supernatural being of pitiful sorts.
I am not blind to the outside world - just walking passed closed curtains that blindfold cracked panes of glass and splintered wood.
I take my fist and throw it at the barrier of this evil circus ... As the pieces fall to the muddied sludge - I stop crying and look up.
Published 19th Jun 2015
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