Post Modernism Piece (This is a poem based on my second story The Truth is Out)

My attempt at a Post Modernism Poem...

 Escape

Arms, Palms, hands are sweaty.

Breathing in and out

Looking into the bag for air,

Night falls on my head and the wind pushes my face sideways.

BOOM     BOOM     BOOM

What was that? I whisper.

The light at the end of the tunnel flickers.

Onandoff.

Onandoff.

Ssssshhhhhhhhhh.

Shadows run from behind.

Red light.

Green light.

Yellow light.

Wheels spinning round and round,

Faces turn from north to south,

Missiles dripping from the sky

Left and right heads turn.

Then shattering glass intertwines with metal and steel.

Crash,

C r 

        a ck,

Sp-lit.

As I wait to hear the sound of lightning running from behind me.

Because Lightning roars at the sound of terror.