Night

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The sun has gone; no longer will he let living things grow, no longer will he let the world see. He has left me in the night; vulnerable, unsecured. He knows I'll die without his light.

Powdered blue skies, drowned by the absence of color. But some disagree, they see bottomless blues and dark, practical, purples. The soft, shapeless, clouds replaced by the abundance of shining, shooting, stars; trading impractical configurations for archaic aspirations. The moon changes; from a cellophane complexion to a milky iridescence. The night has truly begun; I can tell, the moon will have her fun.

Everything under the pale moon loses some color; the moon decided, nothing should match her brilliant shine as she reigns the night.

Her light casts shadows; almost making objects unidentifiable, she tricks my eyes with her ghastly white.

She manipulates the air; warmth is a thing of the past. It's colder and the wind wildly blows, she makes it impossible for even the tiniest flame to grow.

She confuses my ears with a deadly silence, nothing can be heard, not even the shyest cricket. The silence is followed by ringing; for a second I believed it was something, perhaps I had a chance at survival, perhaps I would make it through the night unscathed. I soon realized there was nothing out there, it was only my ears trying to comfort me due to this unfortunate situation.

The moon hopes to drive me to insanity, she's trying to pick off my senses one by one. She's too powerful, I feel the loss. I feel everything leaving me, I can no longer depend on myself; my intelligence or senses. They'll soon be gone.

I'll just sit down somewhere with minimal light, maybe it'll bring heat or awareness. I can feel my chances of living plummet, it scares me. I don't want to die, I don't want to leave the world with such a cowardice death. But there seems to be no other way.

I'll sit.

I've come to the conclusion that there's no chance of surviving the night, the best thing I can do is hope that the sun will rise.

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