Challenge
Challenge of the Month XXXIX
Write a short poem about your own private Hell. The tortured who reigns gets 100 big ones. Winner will be picked by Prose. Go.
Sinking
A mind that can't focus
words just out of reach
Beauty outside my window
floating so close yet so far
I try to grasp it but my fingers
brush ghostly fragments
Colors leak into a canvas
of monochrome madness
Sleep becomes fitful
waking is a nightmare
Phantom hands tighten
my eyes fly wide open
Cries go unheard through
a voice rendered mute
Panic fades with the rising sun
but its touch lingers on
Drifting on the heaviness
of my softly sinking mind
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