As the midnight’s blue flows as ink through your pen,
And your thoughts glimmer as the stars so bright,
The night owl’s chorus and the bat wing’s flap
Will keep you company, until the wingsters mark the coming of light.
The sips of coffee taken from watchmen’s flasks
And the sleepless sighs of lovers in plight,
Orchestrate the symphony, mournful and true
As word after word, on your flesh you write.
The clever wind that caresses slowly, the gravestones
Comes to you bearing their stories and their sights.
As you sew the moonbeams from the better days past
And dab on the ink, to reduce the darkness’s might.
The snores of the peaceful, the yawns of those not,
And the guilt smeared eyes of the contrite
Hold you in their arms, wipe away your tears and say
That dear, you are not alone tonight.