This was during my ‘Edgar Allen Poe’ phase- we were reading Poe in high school and I became obsessed with his dark imagery and Gothic style.
A drunk walking down the alley,
No hope shown in his eyes.
Every trudged step takes him closer to the galleys
Where, in his misery, he shall rot and die.
A doubled view of the world around him;
The Devil giggling at his feet.
He feels the light of Heaven growing dim,
As he sinks lower and lower into his seat.
An erupting howl of an anguished cry,
Of the torment his soul begins to feel.
The end is coming but he dare not pry;
A nightmare he wishes wasn’t real.