The night’s quiet hold,
The tree’s uninterrupted shadows,
The moist breeze breathing,
All these things,
Act as my cloister,
To hide me away from the superficial world
Surrounding me in daylight.

Here,
In the night,
I take off the facade,
Of a happy, content child of society.

Here,
In the night,
I am myself;
A silent, dark ****,
Sullen and reserved,
Laconic in conversation,
Uninteresting.

The night’s quiet hold,
The tree’s uninterrupted shadows,
The moist breeze breathing,
All these things,
Act as my cloister.