Mirrored light: darkness’s plight

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The night was dreary: dragged on and on,

from the echoes of time

a distinct sound arose,

as pure as dawn.

Between a stupor and wakefulness,

a dialogue arose, ensued; held forth.

Sprinkled it was suddenly

with laughter and mirth.

The dark dull night was beholden,

drawn into the moment it decided to,

its desolate cloak shirk off: turn it golden.

The edges shone, shorn as it finally was

of eons of desolation, angst and desperation.

The night opened its arms again,

sound and light became one strain.

Merging, emerging stretching like a yawn,

the night that day, decided to move on.

It rejoiced as it waited for the moment of respite,

it met its partner from the other side,

no longer was there a difference in sight or sides,

from then on it was a ritual called twilight.  

©Copyright Suverchala Kashyap

   


Comments

Shourya said…
This poem is very soothing.
16 September 2020 at 21:45
Suverchala said…
Thank you Shourya, glad you enjoyed it.
16 September 2020 at 23:33
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