It is 4AM.
I am alone on the city
Illuminated pretty
By the glow of desolate streetlights.

Each building stood tall,
Proud
Crowded by its neighbours;
and I am scaring the landscape.

I prowl from street to street
Wondering who I'll meet
Trawling slowly from
one corner to the next.

And I'm alone, lost in this place
Left to search an empty basement
Full of junk I'd rather forget
That clings to me incessant.

This area a purgatory
And I am my own Jesus.
I burn at the stake,
faking proudness.

Not even Judas could appreciate this effort.