The End of the Tunnel

These walls are glossed with mud and
Stones with jagged edges catch my clothes
The darker it gets the deeper I go and penny
Drops cannot be heard, the sound simply dissipates
Lost in the mystery, I’ve heard of these tunnels
These shadowed lanes people claim to have seen
When they’re in between, life and death, but I’d
Never seen one myself until now, 7am. When that
Truck ploughed through the waves of people

All ambling to work and school, society at its peak
I breathe and it comes out like fog, the life in my chest
Feels wrong and my legs want to rest, time has no place
And I’ve never felt such a heavy slumber sitting on my
Eyelids, bruising them purple instead of pale nude,
I know if I stop it’ll make me a fool so I creep on,
Until at last I see a spot, a tiny spec of light,
The proverbial shine at the end of the tunnel,
I guess they were right, slowly it grows and

I hear the groan of feet on soil, my fear clenches coils
Around my beating heart, my throat seizes and my
Pupils vibrate with the colour of yellow, and narrow
In time to see, the revelation of this mystery, shoulders
Hunch, lips frown, an awkward silence deepens,
This happens a lot, he explains, and shuffles, bones
Clinking, I can’t tell what he’s thinking until eventually
He extends a hand, shakes mine, I guess you were searching
For something divine? I shrug as my fingertips turn to frost,

And he nods, you just got a little bit lost, he indicates I should
Follow him, no need to look so grim, I roll my eyes at the joke
Who knew he was such a funny bloke?


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