A red line borders my existence;

It's an outline of fear,

The last straw for going insane.

An endless curtain guarding an endless window,

I hide on the other side

And watch the end of the tunnel nebulously.

But is it the end of the tunnel?

I can never know for sure.

Maybe, I'm running too fast,

That's why my surroundings are blurred.

Or maybe, I'm too slow,

And that's why I feel like I haven't stirred.

I want to be free.

But in what sense?