Darkness silence meditation breathing

Thoughts

Solitary confinement: tool for torture

Original intention: tool for truth

Darkness and silence

secretive warfare: migrating tribes

strapped: crouching low with dull weaponry at hand

Securing perimeter around ignorant victim

Dragging torment creating space to move

He kicks and screams while the beatings continue

Morale improves: the truth comes out he’s inflicted with pain

Now realizing he played it right his fight becomes breathing

His body aches but the excess stress regarding his near death has vanished

He balls up clots of blood and dust in his mouth

fills his cheek with a big dirty breath

“Hoc-Tu”

spits it all on the bloody floor

Realizing this isn’t his home,

He buttons his shirt: laces his shoes

Headed for the exit he sees the mess he left behind

Sighs relief and shuts the door