Drip.
Drip.
Cold satin sheets
and pristine marble.
High-ceilinged rooms
designed to restrain.
Majestic windows,
their bars invisible.
Sluggish sunlight
wheeling in patches
across the elegant tiles.
Lonely corridors
haunted by
eyes shut long ago.
Ornate mirrors
hiding my reflection.
Thick carpets of crimson
muffling my steps,
muffling my existence.
Drip.
Drip.
Out of my hands
Drip.
Drip.
Slipping through
weary fingers
Drip.
Drip.
My life
ebbing
away.

Drip.