The Night

the aftermath of the orange, almost reddish sun isthe darkening of the clouds, the rapid revolution asthe sun cowers; it retires for the day; death is its final abode, it's destination, the mighty is finally defeatedheavy 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 restyou, and me, and your neighbour beeeyes are tired, heavy, and itch to sleepeyes have seen more than they should seetime to sleepat least, those of us privileged toall of us; we come home, for the nighthome is a feeling, a person, it's not a placeyour limbs are weak and you can't reach your facewill you please breathe? slow your paceand everything evil comes out to playvillains and robbers, killers andjust everything we need to killsave me, don't let them get to methe loveliest of music because after allwe are all types of lovelydance houses that celebrate this briefevanescence of the sun andsince when did the moon come out to play?men will ease their bones andwear off tension tonight, but tomorrowthey will stand out in suits and ties becauseno food for a lazy manand cars heading no wherepeople wanting to clear their headsis what's in front even visible?your sun glasses will fail you this timesay sorry and move on, it's the nighttrust me, everybody will understandbut not tomorrow, because you will be crucifiedwould you remove your suit and tie?your bones are tiredthese are the only ones you haveding dong, ding dong, ding-the notorious ritualist is here.