A night man myself
For the sun is not so inviting
The vibrant orange rays are too raged,
A cool dark is much more quiet.
People are bustling.
Bluebirds are all singing.
However,
I truly think that black crickets are more fitting.
The shadows of the moon will stoke fires to rise.
And the howling of wolves will cause hours to die.
The arms of light will fade with defeat.
To be replaced by a silhouette,
You hardly can see.
Squint, Stretch, Squabble, and Stress
It's harder to live the darker it gets.
