Silent cry
echoes through
the station at night.
The wind howls
in mournful agony
under florescent
sky light.
You hear it
sometimes.
In your bones.
It lines the ligaments,
with staccato groans.
Vibrates a tone, failing
like a disconnected
telephone.
In your joints a discordant
flailing moan,
as tension tugs from hell.
You are slowly pulled down.
The universal
flatline sound. Then soundless
agony, as wrenched hearts
are retched up.
Inaudible screams
hiding behind Starbucks paper cups.
Staring red eyed
at departure screens,
just awaiting
that brief glimpse at escape
to blink across like a movie scene.
A flash of life
flickers like day light
over dead eyes.
Defibrillated
by a glance of possibility.
A chance. Low probability,
of a fleeting moment of joy.
As the dull air toys
with your
ever dwindling sanity.
Silent sighs
solemnly sweeps,
sowing slow soft
serenades
to that long
sought sleep.
Tantalising
scriptures
scribbled in
stained glass graffiti.
Sharpies slipped away,
as the security guards pace.
Marking this moment of time,
in this slow-motion place.
Thanks for reading
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