Bleak, Not Bright Is My Night

The small, round clock over my king-sized, walnut bed ticks striking a gloomy midnight as the red-headed cuckoo pops out I sleep soundly, that silly sound scares the drowsy night gales : look at them trembling as they ask themselves, " Who's that? " Bleak, not bright is my night: I must stay awake until early morning, only the sunrise's invading light offers a promise of a joyful feeling! I refuse to look outside; no universe twinkled dimly on other nights.... when serenity, silence, and beauty made it sparkle with much wonder! Yes, one could see where it ended, not straining the astonished eyes: I won't walk through any shadow resembling a ghost that stirs fear! Bleak, not bright is my night whenever a stumping sound approaches, I've read some scary tales that make your hair stand even under sheets! Are rising shadows to be feared when a peaking moon looks strange? It can't break free of stormy clouds, unless they hear the loudest thunder; will they wait in isolation, not tasting the sweetness of speedy revenge? Longing turns into desire, and if it fails, it's ashes thrown from a blunder without traces of an existence, whether it was lived or wasted for vanity. Bleak, not bright is my night...follow me not on a road paved with misery!