Monday, April 25, 2016

City of the Sleepless

The sun sang the lullaby, 
As it bid farewell to the earth,
What a waste, what a waste.

The nightlings waited, 
As children for parents to leave,
With darkness, merrymaking. 

The moon stepped the lights,
Ambient white light, you may call,
The night was alive, revelry every where.

The night grew intense, cold wind swept,
And with the raising chill,
Merry making reached the peak. 

Old and young alike, wandered the streets, 
Matching their steps, a drunken dance,
To the low hum of the night wind.

At length the star of the night arrived,
Clad in the frozen coat, 
The mystery man, Sleep they call.

And each being, young and old,
Matched the steps to the cold,
As Sleep danced, to the trumpet ball.

Soon in the dead of the night, 
The party reached the end, 
And as the first rays of sun hit,
The day woke, blissful to the night.


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