Night
Is the time of poets
Of writers
Of painters
Of thinkers
Of people
Who make worlds
In their heads.

Night
Is when I sit and scribble
And flick
And splash
And imagine
And create
A universe
In my bed.

Night
Is when people love
And laugh
And cry
And scream
And become
Real and tangible
In my mind.

Night
Is when worlds quake
War breaks out
People revolt
Empires fall
Nations rise
From the ashes
In my pen.

Night
Is when worlds form
War ends
People accept
Empires are healthy
Nations are strong
Because I love the people
In my head.