Chaos

The tragic people with no faces, no voice, and no name yell out the threats for unknown battles. The words from no one in particular haunt my ears, loud cries of suffering propelling me into a never ending hole into the abyss as my soul fights to stand upright in the raining tunnel of limbo. A scene on rotation, travelling from one pole to another, swapping from good to bad in fast motion causing the scenery to blend together unevenly providing no shelter for what is to come. No colour in the spacious room, nothing but greyscale and dark tones with a singular window crooked upon the white walls as the moon and sun combine into one entity and cold fog disguising the eery glow of time. The doors locked and bolted, cracked broken handles rusting labelling with no escape. A worn white flag stained red lying on the old oak floor, defeated. The room is tainted by poisoned air from dark secrets buried within pale flesh as a clock shattered yet hands still spinning in timeless rotation. A disregarded figure silently stands in the corner, guarding what is left but haunted by a lonely past, starring on defensive as if a prey is near but the future grims close to match what has destroyed the drifting nightmare. But is not all darkness here in this little world inside my mind. All that is left remained a mystery to the stormy roads of a ghost that once walked around the world and back.