Photo-depressive automaton

(music in a crescendo splashing
obdurately on numbed,
defeated obelisks)

The business of living came
in intermittent torrents; hid
in the dark closed off corners,
privations of living without the
will to live. Barb wired boundaries
bloodied with the monotony,
that stains late night lies, smuggled
behind eyes refusing to
acknowledge nothing and
relinquish bitter-delusioned pictures.