The Dead Night

"The Dead Night"

There I sit

in the quiet darkness of it all

Wondering how it came to this;

Hearing the tiny chirps of the crickets

outside the window seal

      and the soft midnight breeze

brush against the leaves.

Nothing is left

But the calmness of the night;

the dead calm of it all.

The night sky sitting above

Watching,

     with its thousands of glittering eyes,

The things we do

     to satisfy those moments of urge.

There I sit in silent darkness

with my witness above and my eyes below;

there to sit

     to wonder how it came to this.

I sit with my head hung low

inside my chair

whose squeaks are the only other noise

to slice the dead silence of black,

the calmness of night;

I can finally feel the cold chill of darkness.

Drip dripping the cold blood on my hands;

trickling to the floor

staining a deep red;

Drip dripping this cold blood not of my own;

Drip dripping this silence of night off my hands.

I stare with my head hung low

by the window seal

at the dead calm of it all.

I sit in darkness

wondering how it came to this

but realize the silence of my answer.

Nothing is left

but the calmness of this night.

-Armando Torres