Darkness, your puppeteer,
Dominating the gray.
Drifting far from your light,
Yet still connected to the day.
Captured in lusts’ web,
Every sense heightened with anticipation,
The same web which binds you,
Connects the pieces of your whole.
When the sun penetrates the shrouded barrier,
Which part of you wins the war?
Soul in peril,
Running from safety.
Into the tangible arms of temptation,
Painting unbridled passion ornately.
Perhaps enough rain will fall,
To wash you free from the snare.
Before you’re enveloped by silken threads,
And digested by the dark affair…
The symphony shifts
From light to dark
Natures instruments are exchanged
New players come out
In harmonic unity
Day to night, few notes the same
Some of the birds
Ride out the transition
Maintaining their flutes a while
But the night owls asserts
Their nocturnal superiority
And cry heavy above their delicate style
Crickets chirp with vigor
Piercing and steady
In a dominating rhythm
While the resting await the dawn
To reignite day’s songs
And so goes symphonic repetition
Daylight’s not her friend,
Simply a reminder that night will fall again.
Darkness will blanket her once sunlit world,
And she’ll have to survive, have to endure.
The nightmares that haunt.
The unrelenting torment.
The shadows that have come.
The shadows which have left.
The vigilant watch.
The eyes wide open.
Back against the wall.
No relief until morning…
When light returns,
Only to remind her,
The dark will come again.