Prisoner

Adrift, Amidst a storm of abstractions, The borders of perception blur, Engulfed in a dark hue, Reality, The fabric on which I stand, An artifact woven so neatly, So firmly, Unravels at the seams. With every step of its hooves, The dark horse approaches, And its cold embrace reaches, Fluid, malevolent, unnerving, A fate far worse than death. A thousand mile stare, Reshapes the face, As its architecture, Firm and confident, crumbles. The cold transgresses, My violated skin shudders. And the dinner table, and the warm smiles, transform. Unveiling the sinister. With a swirling grin, Judas stares and, My last supper, Begins.