Mind runs fast.
Imagining the worst.
Unsure of forelying night ;
Concealed in a sheen of fright.
A nightmare or real?
Stillness reverberates my soul:
Except for a distant nightjar,
And its faint chirps.
Darkness cradles me;
Caressing my fears.
While moonlight peeks .
Along slats of cracked window.
Providing just a flicker of hope,
Enough to fuel my freedom.


© Kéesen