Uncertain Faith

waiting -

a train,

Unsure of the imp

ending arrival.

Taste of freedom:

bittersweet, clings to your soul

As the artificial glow

seeps

through prison walls.

Slate grey, obscures,

rusts your vision.

Your mind numbs to the drip,

                                             drip

of your trust

As it dissolves to mist.

Memories, steel razor blades,

biting like frost;

As you're waiting for a train

Unsure of the imp                  ending destination.