CHILD OF NIGHT
On one darkest night,
when stars were engulfed by the sky,
I was told a story by my mom;
The story of a girl
who had beautiful wings,but coudn't fly
cause they were black.
"She was the child of night,
born into the hands of darkness,
recognized by not the pictures she painted,
but by the dark hue of her skin.
She was a melancholy song
echoed in the valleys,
at the corner of every streets; and
in every bit of air whiffed."
"She was," mom continued,
"An angel for heaven, a star for sky,
a pearl for sea; and
who live in the core of
Mother Earth's heart.
Yet for the mob, she was
an ugly worm
that crept and crawled into them
and remained unloved, unheeded.
Little did they knew that
she'll be a beautiful puny fly, once;
Spreading herself between flowers,
sucking honey from each,and she flied."
I remained silent for a minute
And then asked blankly,
"Why black is not fair?"
My voice went to the darkness
and dissolved in it's hands.
Silence alone remained.