The Ordeals of Sleep

I turned around and around

Feeling the walls

I blinked ferociously

Unsure if I had my eyes

Open or shut

I brushed my fingers

along the smooth walls

As I would over my dearest

Stroking for gaps or crevices

The air felt heavy

Stifles creeping up

I rapidly searched

For an inlet of sorts

Must have been seconds

In all probability, eons too

My fingers grazed

Negligible but plainly

A wee fissure.

Oh the hope!

Oh the balm!!

I scratched at it

I cleavered at it

With bare hands

nails that wracked

Nearing to collapse

A softness wafted

At my face

I pried harder

With entirety

It wedged scarcely

But enough to

Persuade me

My fingers felt wet

Slime or mucus

It poured in fast

Agile it spread

Filling the space

I drowned now.

To wake from

This cruel nightmare.