I don’t care much for the night. It is there for braver folk than I.
With its darkness and absence of light. I become terrified of the night sky.
Give me the glorious day revealing the waratah and the wattle every time.
The Night seems an afterthought and an abandoned field.
God ran out of ideas. After designing a Paradise of betrayal,
He was done and has left the blue planet to spin on its own,
Even the stars barely shine out there. Some of them are dying.
The Moon looks disappointed. As if nothing will grow there.
Sometimes it even rains at night and stops the brave in there tracks,
It covers up the darkness, with something even darker.
The night is when the rats come out to feed,
Scrambling over the dead bodies of young girls,
Biting the flesh as if the Night gives them permission.
Show me a beautiful green field in the daylight,
And I will show you a place of fear and dread at night.