Sometimes,

I am overwhelmed by the silence of the night,

by the constant and unified

breathing

of those who have escaped

to another dimension where dreams become reality.

 

Sometimes,

the night scares me.

Its darkness envelops me,

a blanket of fear

and solitude

wrapping itself around my limbs,

making me feel suffocated.

 

Sometimes,

I am overcome

by the complexity of the night,

the way in which it can turn an average soul

into that of an aged philosopher.

 

Sometimes,

the night comes to me

as a reminder

of how utterly and completely

alone

I am in this world.

I close my eyes,

attentively listening to the sounds of the night,

far away, not part of me at all.

 

The night is a lovely mistress,

one with whom I cannot live without

because without her,

I would not know

what the depths of my soul look like,

I would never dare to venture

in the dark shadows of my very being

if it weren’t for her.

The night. Such a lovely and mysterious thing.