Affairs of the Night

Night seems more alive

For there's this 

Violent affair of the peace.

Cries the sky

In the heavenly wars 

behind the clouds

Pink with blood.

Yet , in the bloodied massacre

Night drinks life

As the armour of the lies

Comes undone.

I lay awake ,

Each night for my 

demon pays me a visit

I owe him a talk

So does he to me. 

As a saint he enters 

In pain 

For being thrown out of heaven.

Night is alive , 

And guilty of theft ,

A callous artist of dreams. 

The conflicts of my choices

Stay in my room ,

As the Demon gratified me 

How an Angel couldn't.

May I not derive

Power from death 

And dearth of empathy

But don't I seek

Sucking the life out 

To store them in a vial 

with spirits

And be the judge of their sins.

Who am I they ask

Who am I , I ask too.

But all I ascertain 

That I'm the connoisseur

Of the night

Sustaining more life

Than the human kind.

The red oil in my heart 

Spills each night

And I manifest my court 

I sit on the throne of glass.

I am the perjure here

I am the king

And I am the jury.

And with all the unfair means 

In my court , the starlight wins

Against the sun.

I see dark in these lights

And pity those who feel dead.

I see light in the dark here 

And smirk with my purposes

And spread the word 

How night is alive , 

Night is peace.

Nights are for the theft 

An artist would do,

For the urgency

To appease the sonneteer 

And for the chanteuse 

To let the sky fall for her.

In the hours of the dark

When the moon skylarks 

And they succumb

To the sleep of placidity

Oblivious to the carnival

Of decay in the sky.

The carnival with the war

And the war goes on 

Behind the clouds.

The angels cry 

and so does the demon

The satan pays the visits

And the starlight 

Doesn't cease to amaze me.

In the violence of the night

Peace stays in silence

The war goes on within me

And night keeps me alive.