Darkness falls.
Lying in my bed I hear noises.
Noises of the night.
Images form on walls creating shapes
For which only the imagination can depict.
Shadows lurk somewhere in the darkness
Away from the eyes of those who worship reality,
And sounds that cannot be understood become objects of fear
For those of us who must have an explanation for everything.
The blissful hush (which some call peace)
Is not the result of the night hours work,
But is merely a beginning for a new way of life
Which only the people of the night can understand;
While the people of reality are ignorant of anything
That lies beyond the sun.
