There’s a man name Civility,
slowly being covered in
snow.
Slowly, the snow melts
on tattered, stained, woolens
in dark colors, holes in his shoes.
Walkers pass him by,
some glance at him, while others see
a lump of cloths.
Civility struggles to sit up,
and bids them a hello,
a good morning, a good evening
as the sky darkens and the street lights come on,
A shadow from the darkness
moves from a broken,
a glinted of steel in a
gloved hand,
towards a man in a gutter….
From: Stone & Temple
Liferaft in the Abyss 