An eternal trap.

I sit on the floor, look at the clock.

A quarter to one, or two, my eyes are blurry.

Swimming in a pool of blood, I look around.

Seven windows, seven stages.

I cry, blood. I cry blood.

My throat hurts, I scream but hear no sound.

The silence is deafening.

I am trapped in this dark cave, all that holds me is this abyss of silence.

My skull engorges , pressing my brains, stamping out every living cell.

I close my eyes, think for a moment.

Seven stages, seven prisons.



Filed under Poetry.

2 responses to “An eternal trap.

  1. Grandmaster

    Please, write more.

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