Whos Night
Who,s Night ?
It is, night ! dark as pitch black;
I am, swimming in night sweat;
towards an unreachable morning shore.
Whispering pillows bring hours of fear;
and a cage of scrabbling arms reaching,
grip my runaway thumping heart beats;
fleeing me, left prone alone shaking: Yet still
my flickering shut eyes see through strangely,
the bizarreness of its veiled cloak; it hides all.
Night is elusive, in its wraps, its bitter taste;
and is always conquered by morning light:
If the dawn does not appear, i am lost,
realising the heavy lid is screwed down.
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