Nighttime is wicked and free.
The moon covers me in gleaming ivory,
Casting shadows of possibilities on my soul.
I feel the stirring of doubts and hopes,
From within my heart, a cage.
They rattle iron manacles, enraged.
Until the moonlight coats them thick,
In syrup sweet and slick,
And the ghastly sprites emerge.
Ascending from the depths within,
They swarm upon my fragile skin,
And carve their names in venom.
Trumpets fill my ears with tune,
Then silence shatters the moonlit room,
And their king begins to hum.
When I awaken from that night,
In a garish scene of fright,
I grasp the fading moon and fly.
I kiss my shadow mine again,
Unlock my guarded heart and then,
I even fell in love with ticking time.