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Night Shall come





Sliding its velvet fingers

around the perimeter of the moon,

darkness sucks light from the day,

and licks its lips.



Soft as that tender bud it seeks,

darkness tries to enter her, devour

her honeyed sweetness - push

itself into her womb, to the brink.



When her cries echo to the moon,

and reverberates down the canyons

of man. . . when conclusion becomes

the absolute path, she will shudder

and pull the light of day from her body