he walks in the darkness of pain.
The darkness of night.
Never his own darkness.
Yet always his,
his darkness.
his fight.
When when will he give up.
Never.
The only one with his middle finger in the air as death trys to come to get him once more.
He never moves.
Just sits and waits for his time to come.
Yet it will not betoday.
For some one fancys him.
Maby it will work out for him this time.