The ash of a putrid cigarette's smoke
stained the air, yellowed pockmarks upon its flesh.

A home kept warm by cancer and rats,
their sighs a chorus within the rafters.

An unloved daughter silently brushed her hair.
Do you ever wonder, was she here or there?

In a world so vast, it's painfully small.
There is no peace when the cycle carries on.

The ebb and flow of de-

Enough. We're merely wasting your time
Return to bed. Soon enough the sun shall rise.