tired eyes,
drooping eyelids,
the ceiling is a old picture to be seen,
the paint is dull,
the stars dim,
the paintings crumble,
in this old room i lay,
my eyes open,
sleep is out of reach,
yet for a moment when the clock strikes 3:00 am,
i see something out of the corner of my eye,
a sharp point end,
a arrow's end,
red bumpy skin,
i think i forgot,
my clock is three hours behide,

so isn't it twelve?

the devil's hour?

then why do i feel like i'm the devil here?