Monday, August 06, 2007

No. 10

Time was running out of his hand! He clenched his fist tighter. The time moved a bit more slowly.

He will never make it, he thought. Not alone. He shouldn't have killed the others. They could have helped him get through this last part.

He started digging again, one grave more than the corpses around.

No. 9 - Attempting poetry

Every time I look around the walls close in a little tighter.
Every time I breathe the air seems a bit lighter.
Every time I open my mouth, only silence comes out.
Every time I try to sleep, I hear a muffled shout.
Every time I close my eyes, the white light seems slightly whiter.