The Box Glowing
The box glowing
Air heavy, moisture dwelling, strewn within my lair, Shrinking lane, my breath stumbles, with heart pausing, do I dare. Broad wings blinding, soul cowering, nothing do I see. Eyes pressing, blind wishing, lone the creeping stare.
Tear swelling, pillow moist with sweat, this flowing, the horror that I have met. With heavy sight, dropped chin, I stand, grim within my part. Never knowing what has come, created this miserable start.
Behind the door, shadows dancing this grey wrenched beginning. I see the folly of my darkened day. The box glowing, repeating the casting of late night misfit. Constant viewing, mental stewing, the curse of the night, its price, and debt.
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