Days filled with impending doom
no room to breath inside expanding tombs
just phases of mazes living in claustrophobic catacombs
shivering cold with no clothes, for it's where you can only wear what darkness looms
no sun just moon of cascading booms of celebratory tunes
reverberates the exodus of deflated balloons that bleed the air from exit wounds
for escape is but a breathless muse that lies in it's ruse
that gets lost in it's complacency, of dejected clues.