Dungeons, within dungeons,
within minds.

Creepy rasp of rhetoric
grasps chains,
yanks blames,
tires of games;
ending collapsed.

Stairs? Where? No,
no…though for a moment,
she thought she saw escape,
from herself.

Holes, within caves,
within her.

Patches leaking hysteria
snarl chains;
who’s to blame?
She’s what she became,
ending elapsed.

Vowels? Trowels? No,
yes…maybe, momentarily,
she thought she saw escape,
from herself.

Shadows, within darkness,
within soul.

Whining without will power,
forging chains;
accepting blame?
Kept within the frame,
circle relapsed.

Light? Height? No,
not for her… moments lie,
she will expose her escape,
into herself.

Erin Moen
11/26/03
Copyright 2003 ©