Walking through the halls—a shadow

drifting at the edges, the far corners of a mind

given way to raving at the night through broken windows

and who listens?

Who on the withered lawn stands witness to insanity?

The walls are gone out further

Built up high against a dawn that may not rise

and on highways dark and winding

there comes a vision out of the abyss

feeding on a trail of bloodstained broken glass

crawling wretched toward the fallen home of shadow

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Photo by Jilbert Ebrahimi on Unsplash