What Hold Has the Silencing Night?

What hold has the silencing night, What right to refract the bleached bones Of daylight? To cloak and distort sanity Across the ridge of a dark Hump back? And tell me with blind words I am no more than a shadow on a carousel Of black? What hold has the silencing night, With it's despot dreams and Sibilant drama? Tearing the soul from a cabbage patch effigy, Pointing at death with a Goading stick? And impose the belief my life is no more Than a trick of the light, A trick? What hold has the silencing night That I must dispose Paralingual quiet? To shout my love at angels, My voice cracked like a mirror, wrung with Singing tension? And with morning liberation, Bright bombed proximity, love ever too tough To mention?