Escape

This room is growing dimmer.

Dark will come upon soon.

All I see is the glimmer

Of the faint, cloud-covered moon.

All that’s left is the shimmer

Going, going, gone too soon.

This, too, is inevitably fading

Even as we speak.

All the while, I keep on waiting

For the evasive light I seek.

All the while, it continues to be

Too distant, far too weak.

Pitch black now, I felt around

For any sort of guide.

My hopes were being drowned

Ebbing like the tide.

I slid down the wall, sank to my knees,

Tipped back my head and sighed.

It was I who the darkness would swallow.

To the black, I prepared to give in.

But I brushed against something hollow

And metallic, sort of like tin.

Tilting the can, liquid sloshed around inside

And oil spilt from within.

New faith emerged in a flash,

The tide rising once more.

Swelling like a breaker and falling with a crash

Soaking the dry, sandy shore.

The oil could help me escape.

I could use it – but what for?

I rose upon my trembling feet

With outstretched hands that fumbled

For something else to aid my retreat –

Then onto a box I stumbled.

It held very little, for when it tipped over

Out a flint and steel tumbled.

The final piece to my puzzle,

The missing link in my plan,

Was worth the aching muscle.

It sat in the palm of my hand.

I knew exactly what to do –

And I made my way back to the can.

Dunking the steel in the oil,

I took on a resolute stance.

Into friction the pieces were embroiled,

And the sparks began to dance.

Then flame engulfed them both –

This was my only chance.

I threw the two at the box,

Setting the whole thing aglow.

The hue of an autumn fox

Took over the ground below.

It’s strange to think I was so helpless,

So discouraged, not long ago.

Wide open I kept my eyes

As I dodged the flames across the floor.

Keeping my eyes on the prize,

I headed toward the door.

Once upon a time, not long ago,

I was trapped – but not anymore.