Erato is forcing me to make poems

Poem 7(Indigo Hour)

Just before the early birds rise for their meal
Just after the night owls make their last deal
There is a time when the surroundings are soundless
When the inkiness stretching onwards seems boundless
A time when you go out and virtually no one is around
A special sense of ease and freedom can be found
No expectations or orders to be given to you
A time to freely feel that you find true
Alas to reach such a state is draining
And to be caught here beckons explaining