Emergency Exit

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The hallway stretched, a breath withheld, a passage marked by stories knelled.
Shadows clung, like whispers deep, where silent prayers could barely creep.
Each step, a wager on the void, on walls indifferent and employed
to trap the light, to steal the way, and leave the heart in disarray.
Some thresholds beckon, open wide, where we believe we freely stride,
then feel the latch, the sudden click, as choices made turn cold and thick.
The air constricts, a tightening band, no guiding hand, no promised land,
no voice to tell, no sign to gleam, where lies the break within the dream.

We don't just stumble, lose our hold, but choose a path, however bold,
that veers astray, a warmth that lies, a trusted murmur that deceives.
Not every wrong turn sounds the alarm, some wear a guise, a gentle charm,
like love that fades, or hope's false dawn, leaving us utterly withdrawn.
And when we're steeped in consequence, the bitter fruit of our pretense,
we search for solace, find no ত্রাণ, no button pressed, no haven spun.
For life's stark stage lacks painted cues, no crimson arrow to infuse
a sense of exit, plain and bright, within the suffocating night.

The journey's end, or so it seems, exhales the chilling breath of schemes,
of fate that lingers, cold and near. Yet, deep within, dispelling fear,
a memory flickers, soft and true, of laughter shared, and skies of blue.
A hairline fracture in the gray, a spark ignites, refusing to obey
the weight of darkness, heavy, vast, a will to rise above the past.
For death arrives, a subtle thief, that steals the joy, the brief relief,
and whispers doubts at shadowed dawn, asking if the self is gone.

No savior waits, no beacon calls, just inner strength beyond these walls.
Yet, flesh remembers how to breathe, a single tear the silence cleaves.
A name resurfaces, clear and strong, a primal scream where we belong.
So we must run, though shadows bite, through every locked and lost insight,
for exits aren't a given grace, etched neatly for a time and place.
They're forged in fire, built anew, by souls that break the barriers through,
who find beyond the fading light, a door that stubbornly reads: "Not Yet"
in the darkest night. For emergency escapes ignite
not in the finding, but the fierce, unyielding refusal to immerse
in endings where surrender lies, but crafting freedom in our eyes.
If you had a different alignment in mind

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