Night falls, and a quiet falls over the land, as if something, somewhere, is going to happen.
Night falls, like a little end of the world that happens every day, that we’re all used to surviving.
Night falls, and there is new life that awakes in the darkness, and the daylight children are wary.
Night falls, wondering as I wander the city if this, like a dream, will be forgotten in the light.
Night falls, and fires are lit throughout the land, recalling the primal moment of creation.
Night falls, darkness an indelible ink that has bled into every single crevice there is.
Night falls, and nightmares sometimes come true, as sometimes, one’s deepest of desires.
anon.x
1:35pm wednesday, 10th august
i love this poem. since i was a child, night time has been just as interesting as the day time, as i've had a few sleeping disorders, never at any point have i been sleeping 'normally'. consider the notion that night is when we are truly awake!?!
having had night terrors, when i would live my nightmare so to speak, it's plausable that both awake and asleep are just as important, as the night terrors have slipped into when i am conscious.
anon.x