At 3: 39 Am
Belching of hollow
Early on.
A road to take.
With twenty cigarettes,
like twenty years behind,
with reason corroded by cynicism
like Kierkegaard.
Like thunder
in my eyes of mine has glanced
Death.
And I have gone out of my mind.
And i have gone out of the window.
And mirror, by way of vampire, thus refused my reflection.