The nights bring with it
a gloomy solace.
The stars ornament the sky
And represent the beauty of our woes.
The moon flaunts itself
As he exhibits hope in the darkest times.
The sky at dusk is a melodrama,
Mixing emotions with the color of blue
And with regret from all days past.
The fidgety mind idles in a startled hue
Resting all sentiments aghast;
Oh, do not perceive that I call the night
An epoch of the wretched.
It may just be what I heed
For this is the time,
When the strongest seek consolation,
The hustlers drowse,
And the content pray,
For the morrow.