It was
midnight, a night which had no life in the sky, save the colour of the heart of
men,
I
lost the fight in a headlock, while fumbling with the lock I cursed under my
breath “bloody lockness”
How
I despise civilization while having a distorted view of my basics-in my OWN
HOUSE,
“I
Stagger not of alcohol my dear” she smiled, “was a fight wasn’t it?” I smiled,
“I
almost had him you know”, “yes I know dearie, now sleep your shift is at
eight,”
Her
eyes were red-or so I think-besides mine is red also. Perhaps in the morning
Curses,
curses, curses I say, Sméagol not, precious yes, where is my beloved amber
liquid?
Woken
by my own stench, preparing for another day to build a trench-as usual,
O
my! Where did I miss it? I had plans, I was warned, I must not remember my
failure, I need
