He sits in silent exile
Captive of his own disintegration.
Every sound mocks his strangled pleas,
Screaming in this void, devoid of human comfort
As the relentless chatter of the clock
Marks the irresistable march of time.
He fancies he can hear his decay,
Crackling like fire as he submits and burns,
Thrashing violently to break the bonds of
A voice that cannot carry outside this cell
And tears that will remain unknown
In the terrifying freedom forever lost.
His loneliness is betrayed by another voice,
He has become hollow, perfect acoustics for
The returning echos of yesterday's scorn.
Imprisonment is sanctuary,
Here it is safe to crumble,
Here reality ends.
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