Hot Seat

You are gagged and bound, seated In a hot seat among the hard of hearing Harrowing tales from the trenches At the deep end of a ravenous beast A narrowing outlook, hope fading Shape shifting fiends on the cliffs of sleep Captured drifts shaping up to squeeze Harassed by the wail of the haunt You cry within reach of eardrums Albeit all wearing earplugs Wallowing, itching skin turning sallow You are reminded of the sordid detail The devil in it too hard to swallow You reckon it's the lunch in your throat That crouching shifting restless toad You are not alone but on your own Roasting in the heat of your moaning Voice within a crowd of voices making noises Choir of soloists, yet never about choices You were placed where you were placed In a furnace of dreams from dusk till dawn Never warned that you were in for the duration