Jail

Closed off,
Cornered,
Walled in and walled out,
Nowhere to escape or enter.
 
Shifting and stalling,
Stagnant is the air and land,
Nothing changes.
 
Odd, strange,
Serenity to malignance,
Ever-changing sense of all.
 
Waiting, watching, listening, and speaking,
Nothing always to do,
Thinking to pass the time,
Dreaming to move.
 
A fortress,
A palace,
Death stinks everywhere,
But the one thing,
To describe this place;
A stationary contraire.

 

ISA