Glad He Hate All ~Gladiator~

XI

     "Huooohhh"

      His eyes were heavy. Heavy like lanky lead bled by the breast of a meagre metal. Heavy like lips of a rock cut by rusty rage of vying volcano. Heavy like a throbbing thud fostered by the pukes of a hibernated hurricane. He could feel his eyes willing to pop out of his socket. He wouldn't blame them, how would he?. He had no idea how long he had been sleeping. It didn't matter. What mattered was the fact that he yet felt the need to sleep. His eyelids were taunting him. He couldn't had remonstrated. He simply would prune steps to their biddings. He felt like confiding in sleep once more, but sundry thoughts were birthed.

      He hated the thoughts of dreams. He didn't know what they were. He hadn't had one ever in his life. He believed that only those who believed in it had their night basked in it. He matter-of-factly didn't believe in Almighty, how po