Panic Albums

I
(October)
Beads of sweat trickled down her temple
Shortly, this action was accompanied
By a series of rough, jagged sighs
Each beat rippling rather violently
Just lounging upon the cusp of panic

II

(January)

The clocks continued ticking
As if all was right with the world
Disgruntled, she resigned.
Sheathing each young light
From polishing panic

III

(Present)

Washed away with snow
So was the fire brick sunset
Suspense not a moment still