Flatline

Shinny like an untouched penny,
sparkling in patterns that can not be traced,
holding my attention with practiced skill,
unintended in nature,
my dedicated gaze is thought to be misplaced.

Tensions compound with each event that follows,
affections are made clear,
response remains null,
for too long nothing happens,
it's not my fault,
but too late I fear.

Not wanting to place blame,
without accepting defeat,
a new decision must be made,
now something unspeakable I must speak.

Me, Myself, and my Traitor

A traitor is among us,
an informant reports.
We cannot afford to lose this war,
and tensions are aided.
This traitor must be dealt with,
but how?

The scope is rotated as the world around me changes,
the traitor is revealed.
His plans are executed and his views seen.

The scope is spun again,
the battle was lost.
Whether it was the home team
or the visitor that scored is unknown.
I watch as she walks away.

My End

The water, it pulls.
My footing almost slips.
Options deduct themselves as my fear grows.
I try to look ahead but can only see fog.

Momentum increases and I hear a sound that rightfully strikes it's fear.
Panic overcomes me but there's nowhere to run.

As I approach the end, my saving grace appears,
and in her hands she holds a rope.
But she does not throw it,
and now my end has come.