The Night

One night
as I was taking a walk
I looked up at the tree branches
silhouetted against a midnight sky.
The branches were black
and drained of color,
lost in a fa�ade of shadow
that forever kept their true identity covert,
least the sun burn it away.
And the sky behind the branches
was starless and lonely,
wallowing in nostalgia,
longing for happier times
when it�s hue was a brighter blue,
glowing with sanguine life.
The night was silent and serene,
the exact antithesis of day�
the chaotic mess of color and sound.
It was stoic
and all was still
except for the wind,
that swayed the bare branches of the trees,
creating a soft scratching sound.
Searching,
hoping to find rapture.
And while I was caught
in a peaceful trance,
thinking about nothing,
I realized something:
I am the Night.

--Emerald Eyes
Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

1