The lights are out
Most plugs have their safety caps on
This couch will be forever ornamented
With dead, dried out, rubbed about
Houseflies
My cigarette lights itself
Nobody can really see my nose
Also the noose, that's momentarily hanged
Drawn, around my quartered proverbial neck
Someone is paying the price for a new
Damage
Inflicted once the harshly constricted
Erupts, with gale force
Cigarette ash trails, long and hard
Crashes on the scorched, ruined ashtray
The moment fades off, I think I'll be fine
Next
Light swings into gloom and lithe fears loom
A servant wrestles with its master
Someone eventually wins
Someone eventually loses
Both of them suffer
I might have imagined
That little blob of moonlight
Facilitating a harvest, through a window
In through the darkness, I find a bed
Someone allows myself to set
And sleep
