A Price To Pay

A cold and damp darkness greets my sight,

as confinement burns a morbid fear in me this night.

 There is the smell of damp satin and week old gin

and two hard objects which lay invisible against my skin.

I try to move, I wriggle and squirm… but free myself I cannot,

for it seems to me that my dark home now… is some type of box.

I make a tight fist hard from atop my slimy chest

 I slam it and slam it against the darkness...

only to hear the echo of a dull and muffled knock....

Fine moist fibers fall zigzag across my face

As this black fear is now mine to taste.

I try to open my mouth from which to scream,

for the horror of this blackness is far too much for me.

Yet, to scream into this fearful night I cannot,

for it seems that my lips have begun to decay and rot.

I shift my arms now to lay by my side…

I grieve to myself in dark silence…

Thinking…how hard I had tried.

For I had fought against the darkness all my living days,

I had proclaimed the light and tried my best to point the way.

Yet, suffice to say…

I feel as if the battle has been lost

For I had underestimated, my journeys cost.

And now with darkness…

With eternal darkness

I MUST PAY…

J. Allen Wilson © 2005

www.Jallenwilson.com