Musings of a Nightguard Poem, by Abraham Konchellah, at My poetic side

Tell me how nights are dreadful

But I find them so beautiful

Sitting under the veil of black serenity

And finding joy in its subtlety

You call it darkness

I call it silence, loud quietness.

A time for stars to reign

And the sun to rest has lain

So, when it is time, I pick up my torch and hat

Curve a smile, to open my heart

Seal shut my hut, lock away my fear

And walk into the darkness as it starts to appear.

To go spend the rest of the night,

With eyes shifty, not out of fright

Savouring the still beauty, imitating the stars

Hovering calmly over the homes and the cars

You call it gloom, I call it a broom

That sweeps clean my heart’s room

Ridding it of counterfeit happiness

And the dirty aftermath of unkept promises.

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