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A Walk in Midnight
Folder:
Bye: Twenty-line-poems
Sleep, death’s compassionate brother,
Has left me while the moon was on her,
Path watching every move smilingly,
I dragged myself to the window to see.
The night seems to have organised a fair,
A scene so special and rare,
The leaves of trees have been painted black,
The death-like silence has got its kingdom back!
All appears to be a part of painting,
Still like a doll with no battery and I am the king,
A hungry owl hates silence much so,
Hoots at times yet keen not to let the rat go!
I listen to nothing else around,
Other than my breathing-sound,
The moon is my torch friendly,
Onward I see and walk silently.
Perhaps in the dead of the night,
Nature lays bare its right,
To enjoy themselves the most in utter silence,
By pulling down the shutter of dark fence.
