The night of silence has peaked ajar,
Into the window of my lucid bar,
The ink of dark,
Fell in the park,
When the dogs howled,
And the shadows bowed,
The night of silence peaked inside,
In my scarred mind of prise.

The night of silence has come again,
Tapping at the glass of my window pane,
The shadows she gobbled,
And they don’t squabble,
The stars as audience,
A little bit fraudulent,
They are not peaking inside my mind,
They are just hovering, maybe something they might find.

The night of the silence has purpose she tells,
She’s here on the logic that lovers foretell,
As they mingle in the silence and hide in crowd,
She broods as she is proud,
The lovers that swear to her,
To forseek what she delivers,
They hid in the room out of her reach,
When the night came knocking,
The bride did some flopping,
She hid the night in her heavy pleach.

copyright © Philosophical Pen

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