Comments Inbox
| |
The Hangman
Dreams course through;
Constricting , a nuse,
Draining your oxygen dry
Attached to paranoia ;
... Back and forth ,
Eyes twitching with it
Until they catch the wind,
Until the flames are fanned,
the slow acceptance of 'real'
Your pencil draws the line,
Transforming fantasies ;
Shaping the perfect path
no more empty direction;
The rope is severed
You release the Hangman
|
|
|