The Velvety Arms Of Midnight.

Poetry

Midnight-Mandarin-Chinese-Course

I love the night, it doesn’t lie.

It doesn’t hide behind an incandescent smile.

The smile too blatant, befuddling and wry,

Of people who are too foolish to even be alive.

 

The darkness is familiar, the thoughts aren’t holstered.

Real emotions thrive, in the night unencumbered.

 

I love the night, the pimp and the prostitute.

The twilight respects them, the homeless and the destitute.

The night accepts their sorrow; it offers solace to the covert.

They find themselves home, the broken find comfort.

 

The darkness it knows me, it calls my name.

I love it anyway, because I feel the same.

 

I love the night, everyone’s scared and high.

No one can harm them, their enemies aren’t nigh.

The creatures of the night, they come out to play.

They know this very well, it will offer them prey.

 

I love the night; it’s always been this way.

My demons are calm and my angels, astray.

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