I was having a rough morning when I wrote this. Doing better now. Writing will do that I guess.

The Darkness crashes over me as

a tidal wave of dread breaching

even the dykes so meticulously set

in place to stymie such a scourge.

I scream silently at the top of my lungs.

In my own defense, I collapse into

a fetal position, dull pressure against

my chest.  My mind recedes into an

bottomless abyss.  I’m lost in obscurity,

drowning in futility.

I scream silently at the top of my lungs.

Gasping in dire suffocation, I loathe the 

specter eagerly consuming me piece 

by piece.  No longer able to see the surface,

 I give myself up to the torrent.

I scream silently no more.

--Ken Ferguson--

Artista di Parole