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The Night Prowler
At peace midnight he blew his whistle
Down the street he walks alone
Followed behind by his own shadow
He makes the dark aware not to be lone.
There he steered by the chromatic moonlight
And fight against those felony psychs
He palisades by his valiance so intent
Yet he never abscises his pride.
Once he acquaints with the shadow of his own
And once he portrays the shush of the street
Once he co-occur with the beggars penury
And once he scouts the homing boozier.
He meets with the world unspoken by us
And augurs the dormant cursed by the veil
He is blessed by the mighty of his nous
And devour the dark by the power of his soul.
Beguiles his journey by the yowl of the owl
Enriched by the wrawl of the embryos
Befriendly he enured the life so perverse
Fruitfully he lives with the liberty of his own.
Followed behind his own shadow
He deserves the world to see all alone
Yet he never abscises his pride
Down the street he blew his whistle lone.
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Copyright ©
Swairik Das
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