Here in the emptiness:
Is it all white or black?
Is it hazy and numb
Or is the pain sharp, defined?
There is no way to tell--
Only one word,
One voice,
One outcry here
Reaching my sluggish mind.

One.

And it's the screeching head freaking of a demon.

As I sit here writing in a sleepy stupor,
The chains chafing my wrists though
I type on, unfazed,
I wonder where everybody went
And wonder if I am alone.
Did they disappear?
Are they safe?
Did they die?
It happened too fast
And the night is fleeting memory
'Till I notice my betrayal laid out
Right before my eyes.
Unsound, unsafe, and all of the above,
I contemplate the meaning
Of my confusing, short existence.