Knighted night (Poem)

The tumbling down of the sun
assembled a dark emptiness
on which the moon was mourning.
the night was pregnant with
defiant stars and holy comets.
the winds, untamed by cliffs
were snoring in the sky.
the graveyards weary of
field notes of the ghosts and
un-cared flowers
called the cold caravans
for sweet lullabies.
the silence was too loud
to let the body rest.
and the turmoil was too silent
to let the pillow fall.
the blanket was too unruly
to let the thoughts settle.
And the plants
were worn out after
pumping oxygen all day long
from their brittle lungs.
the mist and fog
to thick to cover the wildness of passions
the clouds
too thin to dress the shades of the sky.

-the language of the night
dreams a reality within a reality
till the toilet disturbs your soul.

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