Escaping Into Night

ESCAPING INTO THE NIGHT... If only the sun could warm my aching soul shivering within my inner being---immovable--- anchored stilled like frozen stones in the winter's cold. Strange---the weather of human life has no predictions to forecast coming tragedies nor the coming of calming times--- separating reality from orchestrated fiction. Ah, sundown will come and the moon will rise; the sandman will go about his chores; and I shall sink into comforting dreams; where the wandering soul of sorrow is swallowed up and fantasy and reality play joyfully together.