Just Another Book

Night is silent

There's something comforting about the night
When the chaos is asleep
Yet thoughts keep running
As if a wildfire has broken out
And they need to survive.
Is the night really quiet
If your thoughts are loud enough
To deafen you?
But there's a kind of comfort in it
With no one interrupting
You can finally
Read that book
Write that story
Paint that picture
But still you don't
You can finally be distracted
And you are finally on your own.