The Night is Empty


The Night is Empty

By Tony DeLorger © 2011

It is not the approaching darkness that haunts me,

it is the emptiness within it that I fear.

The wanting of substance where there is none,

the light having fallen from grace.

The gentle touch of the sun upon my face,

empowers me to dream of endings sweet,

the nourishment of hope and redemption.

I nestle down in my bed of straw,

surrounded by the vacant seed of strife,

the harrowing imaginings of fear.

I cling to my sanity and appease my thoughts,

and try to rush that darkness past,

and beckon light to fill this entrapment.

I draw my body inward, clinging to what’s left,

urging my thoughts to rest, until renewal.

Until the sun returns the shadows to hide in closets shut,

I will hold tight my hopes, my unexplored dreams,

and allay my fears with distraction.

A false yet welcomed oblivion will carry me through,

until the darkness is kissed with morning dew.

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