A Slide Into the Abyss

Terrorized Abused and vaporized The two village clocks Point their hands at me While I spiral down an empty well Nauseous and waiting to burst I point my eyes upwards Into the blackness Where is that candle That flashlight That hint of bright Everyone talks about When does one reach the end Like they say Of the road Long overdue And not a hint of midnight yet I release one more primal scream Beg the dream walker to leave my eyes shut He neither cooperates or cares Life is neither a gift or a blessing It’s a treacherous climb Up a glass wall Followed by an inevitable downward slide I breathe The fowl air of the rooster’s call Another early morning rise And still not even a shine. Tue Feb 25 2020