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An hour has passed, the floors are now barren.
The crowds have dispersed, alone I now stand.
I fear i'll succumb for how can I withstand.
My fists are balled tight and the nights in my hands.

In just eight more hours the sun will impose,
his harsh sting will prick me like thorns of a rose.
I know i'll have earned it, of that I suppose,
a gift that keeps giving, a light for my woes.

Monotonous insets insist on inception,
of mundane routine within mundane routines.
How one can stay sane, is a mystery to me;
"Awake through the night", seems a little obscene!

Though solace I seek as I search here in depth,
I know that I'll settle, for second at best.
My standards will plummet, with that i'll confess:
"The darkness has left me, alone and inept".