Sun's Night

Arrows of cold whip and wrap itself around my skin, 

chasing away the erst warmth of sun's pride.

Cold is the night,
Seasons may pass bringing the sweet smell of leaves and the innocence of Spring,
but Night still holds it's reign.

Above my head, while I can't sleep, I gaze out at the illusion of sheltered guiding lights we call stars.
The bright colours day forced into withdrawal from the dying of the light,
the only things around us which hide in plain sight.

My evergreen trees, The blooming light violet on cherry trees, thistling emerald green grass, even the clothes on your back!

When insomnia makes it's rounds through cities and towns,
to gaze up at the deceitful silvery glows of stars stretched across my home.
To shed light? An aftermath of the sun's departure.
A dark box stretched out past a rainbows range with holes poked through to prevent suffocation!

Night reveres sun's reign with it's golden,
life-giving warmth dripping from it's tower like sweet honey.

Sun fills the air and shatters Night's erstwhile winds to ignite our path,
present clothes which liberate our skin,
reveal glimpses of golden hair teail through fields,
and presents the sea with sapphire sheets.

They transform to shards of diamond light when sun takes it's last flight.

Night has it's wait to take watch and deceive those who look up at that starry, good night.
To deceive and confuse with darkened trails,
attracting ominous tales,
and prolongs it's stay with holes to breathe.

I have seen it's true intentions as it glides over us have made my stand staring towards it's face. The likeliness of it's brother it prefers not to see as it comes when all eyes, but mine, are closed.

Sometimes I think about dreams that never seem to unfold as I lay awake under Night's watch. Although now when darkness glides over,
trailing sun's last light,
clothing my tree's and evergreen fields the same shade of communistic equality with no aspirations to be fealt,
I do not fear or quiver.

I have had my day in it's own night as I defy this bottom feeder of light.
I stare, I stare past your shadows and reduce you to your deceitful trickles of jealous silver.