Night is a blanket of black
Which hides the sun in a starry sack
Keeps it hidden until the day
Or til it can't contain its ray
Night is when dark things play
Because the sun keeps them at bay
When the devil plays his horn
And in half the world gets torn
Night is long hours
Sent opening the flowers
Night had beauty in it too
Revealed when the sky turns blue
Night is over when birds coo
And grass is wet with dew
The night melts away like ink
And the sky turns morning pink
YOU ARE READING
Coal Demon
PoesíaA collection of poems by yours truly. Caution: very random. Wrote them at a variety of ages so no judging. Coal demon is the name of my latest poem, therefore the title.
