Night is a witch in disguise.
When the playful sun joins hand with it's faithful blue and falls to the other side, the dark has come out to play.
It is her turn to run wild.
Clouds from her crystal ball ooze from it's glass, finding way to it's victims.
Omniscient to our every move, she understands our weaknesses.
The enticing allurement drips from her finger tips.
We are offered vices mostly in her power hours.
She's mixed our fates into a cauldron, laughing at our petty emotions.
And as she laughs - I think it's funny how they say we can't see in the dark, yet people reveal the most in the spell of the night.
Nobody understands the ways of the eve.