13 June, 2016

Questions Unending

The questions unending as she lay, trying to sleep Her mind and her eyes beginning to weep. Spinning and spinning, round and round, trying to scream, but out came no sound. She awaited the sun to rise again, so she could assemble her mask and count ten. For if she doesn't it might be their end. Her life has been going adequate at best. Her job never ending as the world was set to rest. The wicked amidst the flocking sheep, Their judging eyes gaze from atop of their keep. It has taken too long to put up a fight. The world feels as if it's ending in just a few nights. Yet no one knew, that woman was me. Damned and confined forever to be.

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