Alone

"And yet, so many people have white walls." An older poem. (November 2009)

Blue is the room.

A ceiling, dark,
almost gone -
was it, is it?

Blue is the room.

Captor of fear,
prisoner of a ticking time bomb -
raptured by self-doubt.

Blue is the room.

Wish for nothing,
and for everything -
only nothing complies.

Blue is the room.

Fiery arms, icy tongues,
throwing-stone insults -
fragile paint does peel.

Blue is the room.

Without absolution,
Hell has frozen over -
there's a burning behind immortal ice.

Author's Note

The repetition is intended.