O Night, tender night, I miss the darkness
of your silent hours, when the society
is dead asleep! Introspection that shreds
myself to pieces in search of the light
demands prolonged hours of darkness in solitude!
Now I too must surrender to the whims
and wishes of my frail limbs, the pinnacle
of evolution, one step in front of the chimps!
Pity for my empty dreams I have through the night
like the rest, of belonging to a higher step
the next day; higher not ahead on a stairway
built on the whispering wind and vague promises
of a better day, at the cost of one’s neighbors’ demise!
As the dawn spreads across the horizon,
a darkness grows inside despite the rising sun.
Soon the forged manacle of time with its tick-tocking,
incessant, pushes me over the edge of sanity.
And though I know, absolute freedom too is disastrous,
amid so many shining abattoirs
on every walk of life, I am neither cruel
nor fat enough to take either roles, so I pray –
O Night, tender night, I miss growing mad the other way!