Unacquainted Silhouettes

The Night without Redemption

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This night comes to me again
and keeps me awake to its silence,
seizes my breath in its darkness
and unravels me to its deceit
The sky sails under false colours-
sometimes crooked starless black
clouding all the light and triggering
hollow-hearted conspiracies,
sometimes shimmering with
moon and mourning star-studded
memories shrieking in moonlight
The night is erratic, and the silence
is devious; for it buries down all
the morality and humanity,
letting it take its own course
And while some people sleep over
it; the rest become a prey to
its darkness gasping for an escape
in sleepless tears, words
or the same shattering moon
The music cannot placate this silence,
neither the sound of T.V
The silence only produces a silent
outcry pleading the early rising birds
for their chirping aubade-a hope
for light and redemption
Yet, there is something
Inescapable about this night,
about nights like these

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