The song of crickets
Soothes my ears
The touch of night
Wipes my tears
The twinkle of stars
Calms me down
Eyes shining brightly
As I lay on the ground
The inky black sky
I commit it to memory
Everything seems beautiful
Wether it's a rock or a tree.
Unravel the darkness
Secrets are revealed
The clock strikes midnight
In its silence night wields
At night we dream
Though sleepless is our kind
Whispered stories
Find their way to our mind
Hours past midnight
When the silence is deep.
People like us
Don't want to sleep
How can we sleep
When it's the best at night,
While we can't see clear,
In sun's bright light
YOU ARE READING
Ephemeral Ink
PoezjaPoetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn. - Thomas Gray. A collection of all the poems that I've written.
