The Night

the aftermath of the orange, almost reddish sun is
the darkening of the clouds, the rapid revolution as
the sun cowers; it retires for the day; death is its final abode, it’s destination, the mighty is finally defeated
heavy silence looms over the earth, the unspoken words are the loudest and ironically,
all activity has come to stay, even the lowest of melodies will be heard, yet the city does not bustle with activity, it is time to rest
you, and me, and your neighbour bee
eyes are tired, heavy, and itch to sleep
eyes have seen more than they should see
time to sleep
at least, those of us privileged to
all of us; we come home, for the night
home is a feeling, a person, it’s not a place
your limbs are weak and you can’t reach your face
will you please breathe? slow your pace
and everything evil comes out to play
villains and robbers, killers and
just everything we need to kill
save me, don’t let them get to me
the loveliest of music because after all
we are all types of lovely
dance houses that celebrate this brief
evanescence of the sun and
since when did the moon come out to play?
men will ease their bones and
wear off tension tonight, but tomorrow
they will stand out in suits and ties because
no food for a lazy man
and cars heading no where
people wanting to clear their heads
is what’s in front even visible?
your sun glasses will fail you this time
say sorry and move on, it’s the night
trust me, everybody will understand
but not tomorrow, because you will be crucified
would you remove your suit and tie?
your bones are tired
these are the only ones you have
ding dong, ding dong, ding-
the notorious ritualist is here.

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