Night Ones

The soft ones cry out for the coming of daylight,

And our night passes but in one swift movement- like there was no night,

Only shadows of darkness wrapped around our graying form,

We with our heads bowed beneath our knees

And we mumble prayers that are never answered,

Or so we’ve come to think.

The soft ones cry out for the coming of daylight,

And we look upon our bled hands,

Watch as the veins course through like sinister branches on a lonely path,

With revulsion well combed into morbid desires for more bleeding,

Our minds in conversation with our feet,

Wishing them movement- but our feet know better,

And then we mumble prayers that are never answered,

Slowly we believe it.

The soft ones cry out for the coming of daylight,

And at the center of ourselves lies a realization we never saw,

We hold our centers with our well bled hands,

With quivering wakes and violent shakes we grip our centers tightly,

Afraid to let it go, for at the end that’s all we’ve got,

On our centers we grow,

On our centers we wait with patience for the coming of daylight,

On our centers we watch as the night whispers us its secrets,

Secrets we should wake up with,

And at dawn we are well on our way to history-

Still the soft ones cry out for the coming of daylight.

Reviews

[Patricia]

This is such wonderful writing! It has beautiful flow, lines and emotion. Written with such passion and I loved every single line. Awesome writing here. Bravo. :)

[Opeyemi Jide-Ojo]

Thank you Pat... I really appreciate your review.... :)

[Patricia]

You are welcome :) I enjoyed it very much. :))