Alone

A poem of regret

When Sun is slain and Midnight's Eye commands
the thousand haunting spirits of the sky,
When darkness reigns unchallenged on its throne
and Winter's hunger seeks to swallow warmth,
It's here the grip of night seeks out a hold
on all who'd brave the silent stare of ghosts,
The phantoms of the past that haunt their thoughts;
For in the silence of the black of night
these ghosts of ancient mem'ries of the past
would ambush those who let their thoughts astray;
And what defence could ever hope to stand
against the mind's own subtle, ghostly ways?
But neither can we ever ask for aid,
for who could ever understand the wraiths
that stalk our thoughts and prey when we would sleep;
The things that haunt our thoughts are ours alone;
Amid the ghosts of night we stand alone.