The dark of the night
crawls
Creeping slowly
Suffocating whatever is
illuminating.
Silhouettes become one
with the background.
What once were poignant shapes
now are ambiguous edges.

Where is escape?
Imagination trudging
looking for a way out.
But the night is
too dark
And this light, for now,
is the only temporary
comfort.
For now.


Not ever,
I hope.