The Hostage


1. The Hostage

There I am

Blood on my hand

and a flicker of flame

watches the pain I can't stand.


The eyes piercing so

The gaze as cold as snow

Smiles as twisted as rope

as the screams echo low.


The cuffs slicing my skin

Sounds like a pin

Enter the room so dark

In this contorted inn.


Weeping becomes a rhythm

The thoughts more fearsome

My mind is a wreck as

I become its latest victim.




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