In an Enclosed Space
by cereseithne
A low-grade nightmare beyond an enclosure,
Unfurling momentary fear from within;
whose being inadvertently obscure
───yet brings forth menace,
ㅤㅤwhich is now creeping in.
Sweat that's cold became longtime torture,
there prevails a dubiety of what's forthcomin'.
The feeling reverberated in the enclosed space,
relentlessly prickling the heart with a qualm.
Ditto with those flickers
ㅤㅤwhere there is undue haste
───to survive; where outside, who's ready to succumb
you is a horror, as it awaits
a foot to step out of its chamber off harm.
The nightmare grew enormously
ㅤㅤand the lonely nights longer.
A shiver ran through one's spine, the heart's running wild
───there we started to sip gloominess
ㅤㅤfrom an empty cup and wonder
when will the morning be as blithe
as the good old times where
ㅤㅤeverything doesn't taste bitter.
And to when, we could still sleep
ㅤㅤsedately at night.
A minute seemed to stretch on and on
as the fear of the nightmare thickened, piled
───in a gloomy cloud, ready to lash out
ㅤㅤin weep at dawn
in this desolate earth, wanting to create
ㅤㅤa sea of grief—fright.
Yet, hope resides somewhere───
ㅤㅤthis terror will soon be gone
as we look at the window amidst the havoc
ㅤㅤ───sowing the seeds of doubt
ㅤㅤin this asylum-like, we're lorn.
YOU ARE READING
A Voyage to Anthemoessa
PoetryLonely, we blazed through the precipitous trails of our perennial springs as though we were not distinctively dwellers of our own lands. Its conundrums, which oftentimes hit us like combers, we endeavor to embark on to illuminate its intricacies. We...
