Hindrance

Hindrance

The nights are cold,

in my lonely broken mold.

The mold created by the memories of the past,

a mold not made to last.

The air is thin,

filled with the chaos of my kin.

Leaveing me gasping for air,

with little time left to spare.

The clock tics,

sparing my sanity not one lick.

As I stare at the blockade holding me in its cold steely grip,

I take a deep breathe,

and into darkness I slip.
.