Night comes, without much warning,
the shadows fade to darkness in a flash;
and daylight hides for several hours,
like it has done something wild and rash.
Night belongs to nocturnal creatures,
that crawl and creep and hide away;
coyotes, scorpions, snakes and javelinas,
lurk and scrounge until the break of day.
Night is a cover for the very wicked,
that prey and hunt, on the old and weak;
without regard for any consequences,
the hurt and pain they inflict to seek.
Night is the slumber of the good folks,
who sleep in peaceful dreams and snore;
unaware of things that might disturb them,
they think that they're safe behind their door.
Night passes, in the hours we know not,
a time of passage, almost all sleep through;
eight hours of a life we can't account for,
but at dawn, we awake, and feel brand-new.