I toil, I labour.
As the blaze of the sun
Turns into the shimmer of the moon,
The skies see me undone.
“Give us less hours!”
I want bread for my wife.
But I do not know her grief,
When I sell my life
For life.
“Give us less hours!”
With the intensity of red -
Red fire, red blood.
My blood.
I’ll fight.
Give us less hours.