25 February 2013

The Night is Sad

Note: I wrote this some time ago (as in several years ago). I am not sure where it came from though I am thinking that I woke up in the night and forgot that I should have been sleeping and instead started writing.

The sadness of the night seeps in through the open window. Like the gentle breeze it rustles my hair and fills my nostrils with its sweet ways. If not for this, the quietly crying night, I would myself be asleep. But when the night is sad, how can I sleep?

I feel that I must listen to its sad song and cry with it. Somehow we, crying together, can be healed of her pain and heartache. Why is she sad? Scorned by some ancient lover past, betrayed by a dear friend or perhaps the death of a precious star that she spent so much time and effort to keep alive. In the end, it doesn't matter why. What matters is that I am here to hear her weeping sobs and console her with what little I have to offer, just like she has been there for me so many times before.

Tears all gone, we stop and wait. Tick, tick, tick. The seconds pass as we contemplate the future.

Futures all considered, we drift to sleep. Drip, drip, drip. The thoughts pass between us until hope and life are restored.

Me and the night, together once again.

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