Let It Play

Doom . . . . .

Doom all over everything,
a coating,
sickening.

The dreams -- back again?

This time, forgotten,

but for this, their imprint.  (How could I have missed it?)

And the interruption of consoling music on the screen

makes me want to scream,

as though something 

were breaking,

and how dare it break now --

Please, not now.

The music -- let it play;

it must play 

the doom away.