Dungeon Of The Mind Poem by Arron Fowler
Dungeon Of The Mind
Locked in a dingy pot hole
Liquid leaking from cracks in the ceiling
No sign of life, Not one soul
The sense of emptyness is not apealling.
Bounded in chains that i need to brake
How do I traverse this baron wasteland
Brain plays treaturous tricks, I need to escape
Sentanced to death by satans cold black hand.
Im trapped in this dungeon
Need a get away plan.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/23/2024 2:57:35 AM # 1.0.0.1119
