Dead silence in the darkening air of the night.
Fear building like a snow-balling fright...
Dawn so far away as if the night was here to stay...
Alone in a crowd her fears screaming aloud...from her expression.
The brass guarding her knuckles drip with blood.
The solution was always violence...
Violence violence violence...
The room never looked her way all stood in a blurred daze...
Her jeans torn and splattered with blood only half of which was her own...
Her heart beat rang out in a bone chilling way...
Think think think...
What to do what to do what to do...
Say your not angry,
drop the brass knuckles.
Say your sorry and walk away...
The sun came about the horizon in a flash of fiery light...
Blinding the yard with its brilliance...
She blinked a tear back her mouth dry and the taste of brown rum was still about it making her sick.
The breaking of dawn flooding her world with light wasn't making it all better she thought...
Yet it was her start...
