That disturbingly sweet scent,
Is somewhat familiar to me.
Like the smell of wet cement,
Being shoved down my throat.
I struggle to breathe, as I suffocate,
Patches of blue expand, spread.
Eating up my retina cells.
I walk inside this small tunnel,
Every day my vision dulls, growing dimmer.
Twenty metres ahead, lies a strange void.
That's all I can make out though,
It's my goal, to that end I must reach.
But what could I do to break free?
To stop these walls from caving in?
Run, run, run, I must run away.
And so I gather all my strength,
Pick up my weight, take one more step,
I run blindly on the tracks.
Sprinting, I focus only on the parallel lines,
Twenty metres at a time, that's all I care about.
I keep running, until the finishing line -
Faintly visible, passes, falling behind me.
Even the red ribbon can't hold me back,
That's when I hear the crowd,
Erupting in the stands above.
TUNNEL VISION has been previously published in shrubaboti.wordpress.com.
Shrubaboti Bose is an Indian writer, associated with The Mark Literary Review as a Reader. Her recently published book, Unvanquished is currently available for purchase on Amazon. She shares her own poetry, prose pieces or memoirs on her blog, Lemongrass. Her work has been previously featured in several magazines such as Ruminate Magazine (Issue 56), Radiate Literary Journal, Spillword Press, etc. During her spare time, she loves to review children's books on Reedsy.