Waiting
The heartbeat of the clock
Is waiting to explode
The static of his heart
Keeps droning, eyes trembling
Extinguished candles that
fixate upon the lock
Of the bunker that he
fears could be invaded
He wants to blend in with
the concrete walls, to dress
like the curtains that block
the light from entering
and as the faint footsteps
disappear from his mind
his agony is gone -
for now at least - he is
far from society.
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