Dance Alone at Night

We are born in the morning,
graceful and preyed upon.
Dark editors,
pinball-fast,
needing to make impressions;
sitting hard upon their thrones.

Victorian freedom
scraping a bow,
sinking inside,
their way
is the only way.

This branch of life,
a choice
of many tracks,
we can follow
mute,
calm and contented.

A torch throws light
upon the walls
and we see everything,
apart,
from what we are blind to.

The furnace
of hate and depression
builds a broken wall,
and it’s truly time
to keep them out.

Your weather-worn friend.
Night companion
wandering to an end,
Olympian.

Forthright names,
poisoned words,
waking chimes;
helping.

Cruel and quiet fate
tiptoe and lie,
sleep on a bus,
judging death.

Never was
the ever was,
buy modern themes
that choke
on the new generation.

Cold harrowed nights
that give
hope.