I Am the Night

When the Sun goes down I cover the fields and alleys and yards and houses. I stroll through the once bright streets with my somber hues and embrace a beautiful moon. When I rise the light flees, and gravestones cast cool shadows over the houses of the dead; if The dead would rise they would do so under my shadow, and the roses of the mourners would Be as black as I. I am the night, and am no friend of the garish Sun.