The night comes like a thief,
We shudder like a leaf,
We're afraid of its early arrival,
What it usually brings is not anything trivial.
We hear the cries of the lost,
The ambience is pervaded with dust,
We see shifting shadows,
We're chauffeured to shrivelled meadows.
We see fallen trees,
We see a place gone away from bliss,
Nature is stripped of its glory,
We're in gloom territory.
The night hangs a load on us,
We seek to know its course,
We're trailed by a melee symphony,
Our souls seek dawn's harmony.
First Published in Poetry Soup.
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