.sweet oblivion.

2 a.m.
claustrophic darkness closes in on me
in this asylum.

The door of my soul is locked to all.

it is
.deathly still.
and silent.

Lit by a single candle, I pluck the strings of my guitar
one.by.one.

Shadows dance on the wall in front of me.
memories surface in my mind, flashing like frames of a movie.

They haunt me, tease my psyche;
Twist my thoughts around in a whirlpool.

Sound and synapses collide.

My senses are numbed by the melody
.musical novocaine.

Closing my eyes, the light begins to dim
It feels like I am floating in the night air

I am a bird,
.wings outstretched.

Soaring higher and higher
eyes to the heavens;
seeking an eternal release
in my flight
to
.sweet oblivion.


Copyright 1999 by Erin D. Conroy. All rights reserved.

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