The Hostage

They spoke in loud and awful lies,
shouts and screams
until she left.

Flying to the clouds
and dreamt of peace and home.
and stilled for a moment, the noise.

More noise. Then stillness again.
A sack covering her eyes
no notion of day or night
darkness or bright
and again the noise
follows her into the colours bright.

Noise and black.
But her dreams are vivid
rainbows and prisms.
outside of her prison
in a world of peace

Dust falling like soft fingers
onto her face and eyes
blinding her.
Her tears besmirched.

Then silence

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