tensions are rising

dark matches dark
in the arrid hallway
ghosts of molded chairs
and painted landscapes
now like desert and rocks
from the ten years dust
here i am alone
but the feeling is: surrounded!
hands up, hop on one foot
negotiators cake is soap for the hostage
but memories are the only bargain now
would i trade them for amnesty?
if they keep up the whisper
'is he going ahead with it?'
'not him, never,...coward i suspect'
i lie to myself to keep the bay at pigs
if you ask yourself
where will it all end?
do a youtube search
i think of stockholm's
and laugh
as i run to the end of the hallway
kicking up dust
and unused shells
here, an empty bedroom
i am terrified to enter
as a cold hand clutches
the colder knob
i burst in
thoughts a blazin'