The night is never peaceful
For the ones with a troubled mind
It's a time when you let yourself think
And shamefully realize that Eventhough you have everything to be happy
Your soul will always be filled with pain and sorrow.
It's not a choice, from the moment you were born,
You were blessed and cursed
With the gift of the thinker,
You see beauty in everything
But are put apart from others
It can be tireing from time to time
And lonliness is not quite pleasing
When everybody is pointing fingers at you.
But the night will always bring you something that those who sleep will never have :
Creation.
