The Hours Of Darkness.

Trees are silhouetted black Against the back drop of the sky:

Bruised purple and blue by oncoming night

As the day begins to die.

-

The trees are ominous phantoms

Screeching in the darkness,

Tendrils outstretched;

The wind whispers through the silence.

-

Streetlamps shine a sinister orange glow,

Giving form to blackened shapes and shadows,

As night’s velvet vale drapes the world in darkness.

And here I walk alone.

-

The wind blows in an eerie breeze,

Breathing odd new life into dead-looking trees.

Leaves prance, shadows dance,

Reaching out for me from the black.

-

It feels like something’s hunting me,

Lurking in the mysterious black,

But every time I look behind me

There’s nothing but empty, deserted streets.

-

Silence, cold, it grips the world,

But for my footsteps, and rustled leaves,

But still I feel there’s someone, something, somewhere.

I hear a noise and turn, but nothing’s there.

-

Quickened heart and quickened step

Echo through the night.

But many lights cause many shadows,

Til I fear my own in fright.

-

I cross the road at every corner,

Fearing what creatures may dwell

Just around the bend.

But every turn’s as barren as the last.

-

Every time I pass beneath a shadow

I dread what may appear.

But I clench my fists and I move on

Until streetlights chase away my fear.

-

But I cannot help but wonder,

As between the lampposts the light does glow and fade,

Of stories that came from fear of night,

What myths, what tales were made?

-

But of the unknown force that follows me,

I know I it’s not pain I dread,

So its job is not to hurt,

But just to scare instead.

-

Oh what foolish nonsense the mind creates

In the hours of darkness:

Dreaded forces, dancing shadows,

Hiding unseen in the night.

-

But I only have to look around

For every house holds windows

And at least one window holds light.

This comforts me until my own lit house windows are in sight.

-

As I reach the front door I turn upon the stair,

Giving the dark behind me one last furtive fleeting stare.

I am glad it is behind me, all the shadows and the night,

And I’m glad for the warmth inside as I disappear into the light.