Ever thought what value a few minutes, or heck! even a few seconds of life hold? Stories and Poems bought together from even the smallest or least valuable to the deepest thoughts of life.
So, why not appreciate the movement, why not share the grief...
A/N** Heyy! Hi again. So this is also a poem which I had written when I was doubting myself. You will have to read between the lines. First off many might not know the meaning of Nyctophile, so here, noun- a lover of night. In fact this poem has a lot of metaphors. Even the title. I have compared a Nyctophile to a brave person who is ready to face the night. Night- ( the challenges) and infact loves to face the challenges While a person calls herself brave, she doubts herself So, I will leave it to you now , that how you want to interpret the poem Thank you :)**
Am I the only one who calls herself a Nyctophile, Me the one who hasn't even met the open night sky? The one who hasn't even been under the roof of those stars?
I like the dusk I like it when the sun goes down. But I don't think of myself as a pessimist I just wait to see the moon
The moon might not be there everyday
Or perhaps be that bright too. So what I love the most are the stars!
Those twinkling jewels in the gloomy night sky They remind me of hope When I even forgot how to live When all I could see was the dark.
I have never left myself alone in that dark roof Afraid of what it might behold
But still I love it and await the night I await it to proove myself To erase all my doubts and burry my cawardice To make place to give birth to a brave heart
I would still doubt myself that whether I really am a Nyctophile Perhaps yes,
'Cause I would wait for the sun to go down, So as to count more jewels of hope And for the chance to play under the roof of those stars.
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A/N ** Oh well... I did that again, didn't I?😂** XO
