deepundergroundpoetry.com

Underground

Got to get out of here!
 
Can't stand the dark and the damp and the dust.  
Claustrophobia; the imagination offering countless possibilities. The ceiling caving in, burying me. If the floor gave way as well, I would fall into blackness, panting and suffocating, knowing that I'd never escape.  Certain death.
 
Buried alive.  Like in the famous Rachmaninoff Prelude. Pounding chords as the man attempts to fight his way out of a grave.  
 
Help!
Written by Lozzamus
Published
Author's Note
From an old novel attempt.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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