Quiet night, hushed and enveloping it calls to a wandering spirit asks it, color in the darkness with your thoughts let it expand filling the four corners till the world is your own creation echoing with your image you vain creature but I suppose it lends to your clarity quieting your agitating negativity the night echos back your truest free self more than a word, than a relationship, the fragments of a whole known only to you perhaps shallow to others but deep enough to paint the night, the dome of your thoughts finally present around you