Sun drops.

Wearwolves prance around in the dark.

Glitter glows amidst the sky,

And there is a girl with eyes full of tragedy,

Painting this night.

Slightly around the corner,

Lies a town.

Where white knuckles bleed,

Shades of horror,

This boy doesn't realise,

He holds pockets full of sorrow.

Slowly as the clock ticks five,

There is a melody so glee,

One would believe happiness lies thee

But there cradles an old woman,

In her chest,

Pain, yet gracefully.

The lights blink off,

Shudders,

A young girl,

For the streets stay no longer safe

Monsters,

Ploying their next prey.

Across the street

Lives a man,

responsibilities he wears upon his chest,

Like a crown of miseries.

He struggles to keep his mind at rest.

And here we are

Wrapped in layers of warmth of home,

Yet lamenting of extraneous things,

We don't have on hold.

-A