Author's notes: I wrote this when I was having a REALLY bad day [please don't ask me to elaborate]. Oh and be sure to read and review jerichobaba2007's new fic, Next to Nothing [and her other fics too!] JB, if you're reading this, then thanks for putting The Rockie on your fav author's list [bit late, but better late than never]! Anyway, as usual, NO TAKING, ALL WRITINGS BY THE ROCKIE BELONG TO THE ROCKIE, and enjoy!

Dungeon of Despair

I sit here on the icy, dank floor of my dungeon

Staring with empty eyes at the confining gray thick stone walls with a tiny

Windowless apart from a tiny hole in the wall facing me

I am chained to this wall, my despairs, burdens, pain

Nothing but darkness, frigidness, and overcast days swathe me

If I did not still feel hope

I would have put the knife into my wrist, throat, or heart, depending on my mood

That silver knife is everything to me

It is my escape, my torment, my fear

I grasp the hoary sharpness with a trembling hand

Raise it against my throat, then my wrist, which I press a scarlet line into

Warm sticky iron red fluid flowing down my hand and onto the floor

I plunge it toward that which pumps life in me 24/7

Hark! A light, that of the sun comes

No, it is not the sun, but a light brighter and warmer

The moon? No, the moon is a mere cold reflection of the sun

Whatever the light may be, it melts the chains, the dungeon, the stiletto

Yet it leaves me unscathed save for the diminishing of the cut on my wrist

I feel myself rise into the comforting light

I realize then that I am heading to a safe haven, filled with succor and bliss

There really is a light at the end of the tunnel.