A Night is Born

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The blazing heat of the day  dies
Sun dims in a faint orange glow.

Conceived in the dusky delight,

as the colours of twilight dissolve in darkness,

from the late evening's pregnant womb, 

the night is born 


Children frolicking under the street light

return home as darkness falls

As their carefree laughter echoes afar

the night is born


Old man on a beachside bench 

his pale eyes staring into blankness

as the racous waves roar under the moon light

the night is born 


Shirt sleeves rolled up, buttons undone 

caressing the stubble,  tiplers scurry

into  watering holes of the town.

As they drink, fight and puke

the night is born 


She lets her hair loose

reminiscing the long last togetherness

she let's a plaintive sigh of despair

As the garish glow of the screen falls on her face

the night is born


He gazes the sky without stars

turns the book down, taps the piano keys

as he gulps the last drink of the day

the night is born


It is an end and a begining,

both hope and despair,

for it is born in darkness and ends in light

and for morrow's morning 

the night is born




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