Nyctophilia

Another night hits the busy land
 Pushing away the long dawn 
 Waiting  patiently to fall asleep 
 While the restless body lying freely on the cold floor 
 Eyes are wide awake in a lightless room 
 Four blade fan spinning around ahead me 
 And so my head 

 Looking at the up 
 The dark air becomes a sketch book 
 The energyless finger turns into a painting brush 
  Begin to draw your miserable eyes 
  And down to your little lips 

   Wish you will appear 
   From the thin air 
   Deep quietness running withing the enclosed walls 
   Each beats of heart steal away the quietness 
   Leaving the unidentified traces of you behind 

   The darkness no more a horror view 
    But scattered pieces of you 
    Now, the eyelids closing slowly 
    Only your picture remains in my memory.

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