Night it turned
Its face away
Shoulder beneath blanket
Stars at play
The restless hour
Now forsaken
Tears dried
Conscience laden.
To await the dawn
As if an execution
Of rising sun
Its light producing
A carpets comfort
Upon the ground
The flowers open
The birdsongs sound.
Why are moments
Sometimes longer still ?
To suffering of man
His thoughts to kill
A turning wheel
Defying time
Night it is
No friend of mine.