My Run-On Sentence Continued~~~ Poem by Dillian Hansen

Crumbled admiration
The beast, struck the light
vision draft zero, Your imagination
Be the only means of sight

Indications sense the beast is near
So close, I must not move
But from his grasp
I am safe
My mind projects a doorless room
Confined and fixed, in here ill sit
And tell myself a rule
Don't think any thought
Outside the box
Otherwise, he will
Get you

I think out loud inside the box
And in my hand
appears some chock
I then record what is not clear
The box walls read
"I'm still here"~~~