The room is blue and black,

But dry heat persists in the night.

The fan is fixed on high,

Turning the five oak boards

Into the turbines of a plane engine.

Click, click, click, click.

The sheer power makes it rock

Back and forth from the ceiling socket.

Click, click, click, click.

As I lay on the dressed bed, I fear

That the metronomic sound is 

A sign of an oncoming catastrophe.

A sudden snap and I'm chopped to bits

As I shamble after the current campaign.   

Click, click, click, click.

I deemed an open window might

Help to cool down the room,

But it is this hot air, seeping in,

Being pushed throughout the space.

So there is no escape.

Click, click, click, click.

Or perhaps the blades are sucking

The red desert atmosphere inside.

Click, click, click, click.

Even the heat lost itself, it lost itself.

So there is no escape.