a blackened poem

As I walk down a street of a crumpled-up world,
the blackness grows thicker and thicker.
And a pebble-sized imp tugs at my brow
and laughs, causing my candle to flicker.

I said I’d be home about eleven or twelve,
but it’s already a quarter past three.
The sky starts to thunder and red lightning flashes
and the rain sheets envelops me.

I claw at the sheets and rip out the seams
and I toss them into the abyss.
And I stop and I stand where a black river flows
and I think...
and I sink...
and then quietness...