Red Tide

 

Poisoned air, She manipulated into silence.
Silence, that takes no prisoners.
It permeates the walls,
It hangs like cobwebs in the corners of the room, nagging us, while we sit and wait for the air to clear,
The fog to lift,
The time to pass,
Enough for it to let go of the hold it has on us.

by Dawn

 

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