Nocturne

Lonely is the night.
Its ageless, nameless darkness envelopes.
Chasms of endless nocturne.
Darkness, like satin washes over a weary heart.
Into an embattled horizon of storms,
swirling and churning
Lightning in the far vastness, crackles and severs.
Bats click, crickets drone.
Each, a song to the evening.
A song of hopeful gain.
And a ballad to a bone-tired soul-searcher.
A blanket of stars twinkle.
Twinkle on, little stars.
Keep warm a downtrodden hellion.
There is no place for the sun on this
endless night.
The hellion is fallen.
His path interrupted by fallen comets
Unending rain.
Lonely is the night.
And darkness is real.