It’s there.

Night’s bright with the fog, inert as it could be.

Stalking its prey all day now, and it would strike now, admirably.

Whose the prey?  Who was stalking its prey?

Silence trying to engulf this night, but its futile. Lights litting up the empty roads to limelight a hue, the only marks they could leave in this world.


There’s a fire. It sees it. But this won’t  stop him. It still would go for the prey.

Wood to the fire. A push to the clock. Its 3 in morning. It has attacked.

He feels the pain, under the wool. He shivers, Vulnerability.

Its everywhere. Frostily it attached itself to him. A parasite.

The sensation didn’t last to the onsetting of the sun.

It’s there. Brittle. But there.

As he picks himself up, he smiled at the sun.

Another hue near the fire. To let itself show, only in the night’s light.

The streak goes on.




Hello to all. It’s a lovely day isn’t it? A fine sun. Warm morning. What more could one ask for?

If you’re unable to understand. Then don’t forget to read this. 

It’s a cold night in the modern wilderness. Foggy night. A homeless man after strolling and resting through the streets finds a place to sleep at night. But the batlle with the cold was about to begin.

Help those who you can. They need it more  than you at this time of the year. They need you.