Don’t move you’ll hit the floor
Uncle Sam knocks. Dormant waiting for your return releasing the fervor of his lore.It’s me, It’s me.Open your door.
The winding tube screeches at night. The clink clink waiting for your restore. The heater whistles, the winds bristle, the shades bang. Close the window sir. Rain seeps into the tiled floors. Black holes colliding, the light is dying, a sound shakes and stirs.
Fish are swimming on the floor
Scaled souls sputtering, darkness all-encompassing, the dog claws at the caged door. Curtains fluttering to the roof galore. A rainbow shines, a lucky charm glows. I want what is owed. His webbed foot enters, silence is gold. Shrugging his shoulders the shepherd is home. My trolls spy at those who roar.The spirling tube sleeps cold.
Up the stairs he goes
The faucet trickles. He feels a tickle. The drool gushing over his drunken mass.A molten lava of emotions oozing, red eyes flash. He wakes up. What’s this? Who’s that? Who dares challenges me? I am the Goliath of all courts.
You shall speak nevermore
The winding tube freezes. Clink, clink, rapidly, rattling, rustling down his roar. His legs tremble, hands quiver, out his mouth not a shiver. A hatch releases, the white substance increases. He’s a dazed and confused for sure.