Place
Cold and dark;
light becomes less.
The further I go,
the more I know
there's less chance of escape.
Dull yet sharp,
the piercing feeling
always remains.
Numbing to the core,
cold to the touch,
unpleasant to the mind.
Silence to the ears,
less and less to your soul.
There's no help past the entrance,
you're stuck,
you're finished,
you're through,
unless you find another
as lost as you.
Copyright © Makenna Taylor | Year Posted 2015
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