It's midnight and it's silent,
Just the roar of passing vehicles
Every ten minutes or so.
And a shouting man
Perhaps of being too drunk.
And it would've been pitch black,
If it wasn't for the light from the window.
Now I hear the drops of rain as it touches the roof,
Have you ever wondered
If these raindrops were the tears of our loved ones
in heaven?
or the souls who couldn't enter heaven?
Funnily, it could also be ***,
Of a larger being on top of Earth.

But in reality,

It's midnight and it's not silent.
It's the time when you hear more of what surrounds you,
Even what's inside you.
Your heartbeat,
Your growling stomach,
The voices in your head.
It's the sadness and pain behind that man's scream.
The rush of the vehicles passing,
Their desire to go home,
The rush of holding their beloved in their arms.
Say, close your eyes,
Now you see pitch black,
And some memories
You wish you could relive.

— j.n.