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