The Void
Wait Wait for the Darkness to Come
Wait for the Darkness to Come
I walk these streets, with aching legs and feet, I pay attention to everything I see, the odd face I recognise, to be honest it's no real surprise.
I see them gathering together, the same spot, the same time, in all kinds of weather.
They beg for loose change, as people pass by, families shopping looking for a good bargain in the sales.
They pass them by, as though they are strange. These streets seem to alter, but the inner-city atmosphere switches in an instant.
Some times I had to stay out of the chaos, change my daily routine and tried not to falter. I would sit on a bench for a few hours a day. It became my one spot to watch the people come and go.
A place to think, a bench where many will have sat, and some times a bench upon which I would some times lay.
This is where I would wait for the darkness to come. This is when things change; as the hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and my senses are heightened.
This is when the night closes in, as the clubbers and drinkers begin to gather in the city centre. I go into solitude, and try to avoid that area, a place I prefer not to enter.
I try to sleep, as the temperature drops, and the cold wind begins to catch my breath. Then the sound of the city breaks my sleep state, as groups of people get involved in fights, and argue over money and possessions that can be hard to keep.
Then people passing by notice me, and ask how I am, then move on. I'm given the odd items, or a sandwich or two. But I don't ask for anything, as I preferred to save something to eat, it's better than having none.
Eventually, I slept, until the brightness of the day brings me back into the hustle and bustle of the morning. And it starts all over again. Until, once again I am walking, and my feet still ached.
Wait Wait for the Darkness to Come