O to shake this parched and languid mood
which has fallen across my tortured soul.
O cursed plague which has silenced my muse;
reminiscent of those long,lost days of old
with spoiled virgin pages of starkest white.
Days when feelings were doomed, suppressed,
entombed within my silent, clouded heart.
My thoughts found comfort in dark's sweet art.
O night...
a secret, secluded lair
where emotions float
on careless,timeless air
shielding the timid heart
from daylight's rude exposing,
its deep, imposing rays.
No, night brings calm
releasing pains
in honest fashion,
soothing the soul,
professing passions
tucked cautiously
so deep inside -
but more I cannot say
lest I risk demise...
demise by emotional suicide...
I pray thee, cursed, binding chords unravel!
Release my silent voice, my verse, my muse!
Allow my vibrant heart to soar, to travel,
finding delight in thoughts so seldom used.
No longer enslaved within the realm of night,
I offer now these words to dawn's first light.
