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.
Copyright © Dennis Faherty | Year Posted 2016
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment