In the Dead of Night
In the dead of night
the quiet overwhelms
a candle works its magic
her zig-zag flame enigmatic
In the still of the night
a rustle of leaves
scares night-owls 'most to death
uneven, their breath
In the midnight hours
senses hone their powers
feasting on infinitesimal change
defying limits of mankind's range
In the wee hours of the morn
hopes yearn for dawn
only to be dashed against
guardrails of nighttime's marathon
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