He exacts the pains of his own shortcomings onto the undeserving....his eyes squinted watching them like a patoo in search of prey....his workers have all given up
...they could have never observed the world through HIS lens and distracted by his way of doing things, they forgot to even try....they put up a fight and they resented him but he pretended not to see....his sharp eyes, also on the LIGHT at the tunnels end....he has a family to feed....a last name to keep; living up to. But the weekly ins and out are a force with which he is at war....the vices that he used to turn to no longer seem to work...he must keep a level head...but he has nothing; noone....no matter how much he denies, his grave is dug, in it he must lie no matter how many bugs or how frightening..his actions have pre determined his fate, its way too late....for a return...his last resort being either running away or seppuku, the latter, given his actions, the honorable thing to do.....