Nyctophilia

The larks and flamingos are revered at light,

But when the nights dawn and nocturnals rise

When clouds drape the moon in a starless sky

We awake from slumber, for we are

the sworn sovereigns of the night.

  

The specks of iridescence are overlapped by grey ashes

When in forest, burning bright are the fearful symmetries*.

In those hours, over the kingdom of nyctophiles,

with chirps of crickets and howling of wolves

the flaps of our wings lay in harmony.

  

Feeding on the shadows, morsel by morsel

And anchored to the hidden moonbeams

we soar to the cosmic hurricane.

Who said darkness is fearful, for us it’s synonymous to life.

 
  

(*From ‘The Tyger’ by William Blake)

Image courtesy: Pinterest

 

Fears

Surface – The Daily Post prompt

Perspiring, I wake up every night, surrendering

to the fears. An abundance of what-if’s,

suspicions crawling through the veins.

 

Questions burning in the head, while the answers

untraceable, still fondle the shadows.

I fall for grotesque fallacies. And light has collapsed

too deep into caverns of uncertainty

to reach the surface.

 

When hope gets lost amidst the brindled tassels, which

the raucous wind has ravelled out of dust.

My angels have lost their ways, for the halo is

camouflaged by the dark.

My summers shiver, I need warmth.

 

Image artist: Unknown