Murderous Mirage

Caught in this snare of irritation and anguish.

Mirages of freedom close in on me.

Thirsty, I reach out to the catalyst of my every breathe.

I crash back down to Earth.

A cold, gritty, moist ground, but an adamantine surface.

Each breathe heavier, more expensive.

For a moment, silence reigns.

Then the ringing sets in. Piercing. Breaching. Bleeding.

The vice of death squeezes my gut.

I start to believe I have a chance.

But my fate has already been decided.

It’s too late. I am already dead.

As the crashing of each hammer strike crushes my head.

The weight of this agony is too much to carry.

The end is near and that’s OK.

If planned this was, then a murderer she’ll be.

But absolute denial is the most likely plea.

Such a crime.

The sun bakes me slowly. Dreadfully. Fatally.

Everything has a beginning and an end and everything in between is a big mess.