Stuck

He is stuck Behind the wall Between the fire place And the brick facade There is nothing to be done A fatal falling From the top of the roof Down through the opening Hell’s deadly crevice No escape Hear him clawing Desperate and alone There is no savior No light to break the darkness Only the waiting Remains Hours then minutes and seconds of breath Wings slap in impotence Weakly raging Life’s brutal passing Death’s quiet embrace. (Previously published in Lynx Eye, Spring '99, Vol. VI, No.2; Fusion Ink, Issue 2, September 2000; Poet's Porch, Aug.2001)