During my lonely agony,
Swallowed by the margins,
I screamed in to the void.

Scorned by the glare of dawn,
Damned by every dubious dusk,
Ghetto vacancies discarded me.

Lying down on a filthy doormat
Of a run-down tenement,
I disgorged my gelatinous bile.

Awaiting death, gut clenched,
Winters frigid anger pierced
Through every speck of my body.

Heaving and riving,
My death was imminent.
A pale reaper watched.

I sweated out another lucky win that night.

But yet, the reaper still
patiently watches.

After-all, my seasons have
waned well beyond obsolescence.

And his harvest awaits me.