The walls are breathing again, one corner at a time.
Indented imprints remain as the sweat seeps out.
Within it the figure sidles to and fro.
I hear a jumble of muffled sounds as I stand waiting, in a torpid state.
He is trapped within its crevices where I hope he stays. I loathe the harm he has caused me.
Before I sealed him in, he haunted every living part of me; my senses will never be the same again.
I hope I have banished his soul for good.
He is nothing now, and he will soon be dust. Good riddance!