Prisoner Of War Poem by John Vogel

Locked in this cold dark cell, light is dimly illuminating
illusive shadows of my surroundings, mind infinitely ruminating
accumulated dreams of a life that seems so far away regaling me
assailing me with bygone days memories bombarding me unfailingly
telling me there is a ray of hope in life, another reality
but in this cold dark cell, the voice of doom is telling me
it's only a hopeless dream, no hope of seeing the light of day
eyes gone blind from endlessly perceiving only nights of grey
I tried to stay optimistic, in patient vigil expected rescue
but days turned into months in time my mind accepted the truth
this six by six foot room seals my fate, this is my death tomb
the smell of urine and defecation suffocate, invading breath tubes
what is left to do? I etch these last few words on walls of grey
as slowly i slip into depreciative states of final mortal decay
the images fade away, my mind awaits in stillness the inevitable
as I fulfill my role in war created by insanity seemingly congenital
the sickness grows, gangrene taking hold, diseased body dying
as I lie silently waiting for deaths toll, ceased from even trying
to stay alive what point is there? A final end to this suffering
Etch the last line on this rhyme and lie down for this final sleep