‘Tis the turn of a new day,
the invisible moon set out to play
in a starless, onyx night.
Darkness grasps with all its might
onto imaginations deep,
to all that crawls, to fall from sleep,
for that would be the norm.
The darkened monster takes its form,
shuns away your yawning,
nightmares slowly spawning.
Covers over heads,
flashlights beaming under beds,
twitching eyes,
self-taught lies
that circulate your fears.
Not a sound will touch your ears
if your imagination stay,
if paranoia be forbid to play.
But the turn of the day be new,
and the rise of the sun, the morning dew,
be far from reach this night.
So close your eyes and hold on tight…
3/11/13
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem