Himself .

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Florence ,Nithya Suri

He climbed the ladder upstairs ,

To the home of rodents and unawares .

In a dreary cold situation he lay ,

To compensate for the time ,

that never swayed .

As he buried himself,

In a cozy coffin ,

He wondered about the people;

Down below .

Would they have a story to tell ,

Or would they just remain ,

Talking and laughing ; ignorantly so .

He worried ,

In a jerky pace ,

Wanting this journey to end .

His thoughts choked him ,

Bringing him into a strange world ,

That no warm breath,

would ever dare to know .

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Florence ,Ntihya Suri

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