Nothing is good enough. Tear the walls down.

Weak and vulnerable. Tolerance snaps.

Holes bored for hollow creatures that don’t cry.

Shattered glass mirror on the other side.

A hope, a wish, a candle with no wick.

No flame to light and the lamp has no oil.

Fervent and persistent, takes the wrong path.

Headstrong with no direction. Can’t go back.

An idol, a ladder, he hopes to climb.

Fallen a million times. Can’t get back up.

kisimul dungeon pit

kisimul dungeon pit (Photo credit: damiandude)

Impaled his chest, but his heart was so small.

No relief of burden. God points and laughs.

How can he not know, what cannot be known?

Pricked fingertip would have sufficed, but cruel.

Lessons are entertainment for the gods.

Let them laugh as he wriggles in the mud.

Covered in the slime and filth that he shits.

Helpless and abandoned, a spectacle show.

A ladder descends, imprints his fear face.

One for memory, for ages to hear.

The tale of the man who could not get up.

Not even for an instant. Betrayed wont.

Writhing and screaming for someone to care.

The silenced laughter echoes that they watch.

Unperturbed by fellows who offer naught.


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