My heart beats and the world shakes
Pitch black out the window
Dreams still drifting through my head
The crazed world keeps me locked inside
I teeter on the edge of pink clouds and mountains now
There’s a lake at the end of the road
A final resting place
At the motel on the side of the road
A silver ice bucket and pair of tumblers topped with paper shields sit on a circular brown table next to a red chair in a dimly lit room
The sheer curtains on the window barely hide a gray day
The room is quiet like death
But then people sob and scream in the other rooms
I wonder if it’s some sort of cubicle hell
Some sort of filing cabinet for the abandoned
A lonely road in a scuttled dream
Your thoughts?