When The Night Comes

It is about the night and I. Read the poem, read my notes, and you will see.

Into an abyssal darkness I fled,
an inky blanket draping my dread
of doubt and infinitely clinging fear,
sensing the shadows that are always near.

The wind sighs; I inhale each suffocating breeze...
tendirls my spirit flees,  'twined round watchful trees.
The leaves, they mutter, tasting the terror;
the stars, they twinkle, with sadistic pleasure.

The night despises my existence,
yet here I lie conscious, without resistance.
Burnt and black, nought but a hovering shroud;
I remain, weary I sit, me and night's cloud.

The horizon soon will open, her bleary lids parting,
rays of slicing light a new day beginning.
The earth cleansed of lingering nocturnal rust,
ridding herself of the sooty streaks of dusk.

Night hides all, the rich dark of its dirt covers iniquity,
we do as we like, but only under its invisibility.
The murky mist is a concealing veil,
when it falls, there is no telling your tale.

Author's Note

It's old. But still applies...as always, what do you think? Any suggestions? Any questions?

I am a partial insomniac...The night is my friend and my enemy...I embrace it, yet flee...I am free to wander, but cannot leave its depths...The night is our friend and enemy - oftentimes it disguises and hides the very things holding us captive. Then the morning comes, sweeps the night away, slowly but surely, much like a damp cloth wiping away grime.

Reviews

[Last Lying Look]

I can definitely relate to this.
I too am a partial insomniac.
My favorite part is:
"The wind sighs; I inhale each suffocating breeze...
tendirls my spirit flees, 'twined round watchful trees.
The leaves, they mutter, tasting the terror;
the stars, they twinkle, with sadistic pleasure."
That part is truly captivating, as is the rest.
Beautiful. Amazingly beautiful.
Excellent write.
-Elissa :)

[Mortricia]

Excellent poem! This has a very nice flow to it, and good visuals, as well. Enjoying your stuff..