A wet breeze, like the drunkard’s breath

Staggers through the window.

Ancient shadows congregate on grey walls for a final waltz.

An inescapable mist hovers over these ragged bricks.

The scent of mildew adds longing to crow’s cry.

My heart, like the lone candle’s flame, shudders.

And you, broken breeze, will crawl into

The solitary darkness to die.