Spirit

I can’t breathe.
The night casts dims rays of
Streetlights onto my bedroom walls.
Silhouettes frozen in every corner of the room.
A coward under my bed, I hear but the faint voices from somewhere deep in the city.
And everything falls around me.

I say Sir, spare some change for a broken soul.
I need to find me some air to breath for I have lost my spirit.
Down here in these abandoned streets all is quiet. All is dead.
The uninteresting stones on the pavement shed their shadows, long and dim.
Hiding behind the clouds, the moon leaves its inevitable glow seep through.
The world of the night is watching me, and waits for my fall.

The sound of my beating heart invades my head like a sick creature.
The side trees shiver from the damp winds as it howls past the alleys.
My reflection looks at me with disgust, such a poor, dismal, little child.
I slip, with nothing to hold onto, just the concrete scraping beneath my feet.
Red lips of mine kiss the dust-filled floor; under my bed I am no more.
I am fallen.