The room is empty except for a bed and TV.

It’s a dark room throughout the night

and the light never comes in.

It has a quietness that feels familiar.

A noise is made from the dark room,

a muffled noise that cannot be made out.

It reverberates inside the dark room,

like a scream in a tunnel.

The noise dies in the dark room.

The TV disappears and the dark room is emptier.

Emptiness has normality in it;

you have grown accustomed to it.

Emotionless and pure,

Nothing is hidden underneath it.

A mask that no one sees,

but does not fit your face. 

It is bright and loud,

but has many imperfections.

The dark room draws you inside its walls.

The quietness takes over

and the mask begins to crack,

the colors begin to fade.

Soon the mask is gone

and the dark room consumes the bed.

Alone in the dark room.

You cannot escape;

the sound does not return,

like a stone thrown into the ocean.

You scream and shout,

but all is quiet in the dark room.

Nothing changes in the room.

You are trapped inside without a key, 

Locked inside waiting for something;

someone to open the door.

But when they do they find the dark room empty.