LOST 2

......I'm latched onto a spike
Through majestic yet convulsing,
A collapsing entrance;
The clew expands.

Being dragged about
Am I liberated or snared even more?
Engraved sides, queer and curved
Pacifying anyway.

Fragile, so weak,
This con of existence,
A mere disillusion of reality.
A gaff to lure.

Amidst such chaos, a fruiting hope
To return where I belong,
Or rather did. To have what is mine.
Or rather was.

When did I cease to be?

The walls; now converging
Do I escape or merely succumb?
Invisible waves quaking
Am I drowning or being buoyed?

The answer is staring at me.......

(This is continued from the poem "LOST")