Between Dusk And Dawn There Sleeps The Night

0

dusk-till-dawn
They ask why I like the night?

Why I shun the day and the light?

And what can I really say in answer?

Can I say that the world is a cancer?

A growth so malignant that I abhor it.

A sickness so horrible that when lit –

By the daylight sun it looks foul. . .

Something one finds inside the bowel?

Should I say, that darkness hides this?

Covers it with shades, whatever it is?

And makes it dull, numb and mute. . .

So that it obscures the causative root –

Which I suspect to be me and you?

Should I say that? Speak what is true?

That I like the night, for I hate man,

Man whose soul is visible in the sun. . .

Homo Sapiens who crawls out in the day,

Odious specimen of the sun’s lewd ray,

Like a diurnal predator ready to hunt,

With its shifty eyes and blunt –

Mind, it seeks victims everywhere. . .

Finding them in every nook and every lair.

And that is why I prefer the nocturnal –

Activity cycle, far from the call –

And notice of mankind, safe and hidden. . .

But, can I say all that unbidden?

Asked only to give a simple shrug,

As though I am an unthinking bug?

I like the night, yes, quite so!

At night, nothing seems to grow. . .

Least of all my outrage at the world,

No matter how dark or how cold –

The Earth seems to become. . .

At night, without light, I am –

Not aware of any of it at all!

No matter how far we seem to fall.

At night I am blinded by the black. . . .

It is that feature that day seems to lack;

For me. . . the sun shows the grime,

In the daylight one can spot every crime,

But I like the night, its dark pacifies,

The night hides all the terrible lies. . .

The night is pure, and innocent,

Only at night can I find atonement.

So speak to me no more of day. . .

Or of the dreaded sunray!

Ask me no more why I like the night. . .

For I cannot answer without a fight!

I cannot say without insulting mankind,

I cannot explain why at night I can find –

Peace and amnesia to the world today. . .

For me, the night washes our sins away.

October 27, 1996
Konrad Tademar

Leave a Comment

                                                                                                                              Unique Pageviews for this article: 222  

This website uses cookies to improve your experience. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish. Accept