This post is a brief poem about the night. It’s a fascination I have with it.
by Robert J. S. T. McCartney
Often confused for and left bruised,
by a society that does not yet understand.
The night is a sanctuary; a necessary refuge for the accused,
Those afflicted by a blight and plight; of the day’s transgressions—a modern day gangland.
The darkness—tis who the real enemy,
for it shrouds the world; its outlook, gloomy.
There, within it, the night shines; a beacon,
to lead those who are lost, home, their Eden.
The good, the bad, the disturbed, craven and damned,
All have been twisted, some, not all, have gone mad.
So it’s up to us to take the hand,
That’s been outstretched for us, and be guided across the land.
It often appears to us in many forms,
A pet, spouse, friend; many persons, places or things in life’s storms.
So, though at times the night may seem scary,
Know that it is…
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