After

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Why do we flee when escape is but a myth?

Into darkened halls, we dash, seeking a rift.

Yet light pierces through, relentless and sure,

Daybreak or dusk, its radiance pure.


Many strive to evade their deepest fears,

Until they find themselves drowning in tears.

The boiling water spills, the stove grows wet,

As desperation mounts, a harrowing set.


A morbid allure, a ticket to demise,

The train of fate stops, heedless of cries.

Unaware, they board, seeking an end,

Blind to the devil's grin, a sly amend.


Their journey ends in what they thought release,

But trapped in self-pity, they find no peace.

Blinded by sorrow, they fail to discern,

The swamp they've entered, where shadows churn.

Whispers in the Water: A collection of short stories and poetryWhere stories live. Discover now