Angelica St. Darke
He sits alone, a lost soul, long since detached from society.
Welcoming the darkness to hide in its shadows.
Clinging to the fringes of sanity.
Destroyed by endless pressures he watches as the walls edge closer in,
Slowly at first, increasing rapidly with each shallow gasp for air.
Battered outstretched arms an attempt to resist the now inevitable blow.
Relentless submission becomes apparent once more.