Hoovering in darkest skies, clouds black

And heavy keeping from the ground,

Fall or dive and dippin' down,

In grayish cottonwound,

Keeping up to speed here lies,

Fluid drops, discoloured,

Due lack of light, a spot,

Allows me to barely bother,

And focus on my writing,

With a view nonetheless,

From my little cell,

Outside, more of the same darkness,

Darkish gray from the outer is,

Infiltrating in my blood,

Cold and loneliness I feel,

Wonder if we make the end or not,

A thin and squicky voice,

Bringing me back alive again,

'Got any rubbish,dear?',

A knod answers the woman.