The Robber.

Callous movements in the dark

Are coloured by the night’s lonesome mark

And poured upon a heartless robber

Who stealthily moves through the endless black.

His future draws close 

But moves away each time,

Each time he reaches his goal.

The black expands still

Faster than his shadow grows.

His shadow stumbles and gropes

Onto objects dark and cold

And finally sighs and catches hold

Of a steely object, one too familiar

And before seconds, he’s behind bars,

Sealed like his future,

In the grey heart of prison.

Dead in Sleep.

In the midst of a REM

I’m caught between sleep

And wakefulness.

With half-open eyes 

I’m looking into my next life.

A presence behind me

Is missing when I wake.

I try to call out to him for help

But my voice is dead

My limbs are tied

And when I shout, 

All that comes out is croaks

In a frog’s language.

Heavy heartbeats pound the chest

And soon I am awake

I look around and there’s noone there.

Rancid Bubble.

The perilous bubble that I once inhabited

Has wafted out the open window

Drifting high, drifting wide.

On many occasions did I pound,

The walls of the bubble to escape.

On many occasions did the bubble flex

Its walls of moral codes

Trapping me in a wave

Of manipulative emotions

In a corner.

When she drew out on me

With her dagger of agonizing drama

Of her days gone by

I found me dissolving like a victim of a gas attack

The gas consuming me in bits.

The perilous bubble that I once inhabited

Now drifts off with a lonely rancid rodent.