He has known me
He has always known me
Since days of my earliest recollection
His affection for me is sinister
A minister of the weak
He sees that I have no one
I am alone
His tone is screeching in my ears
He fears those who cannot sleep
Just after midnight
He comes for me
The sheep are those
Whose saliva drips slowly?
Signifying the end
The end of a long, trying day
He sees me there
Alone
I try to write lines of symmetry
Thoughts shrouded in mystery
Watch a documentary
Anything, not to hear him laugh
He is laughing at me
I try to ask him questions
Trying to offset his presence
I start asking
The coward, won’t even respond
He never responds
He is fond of my hopelessness
Even when I am smoking
I hear him as I am choking
Grinning childishly,
Hiding in the shadows mist
The god hour comes
Now it is time to fight
I will bind his chains fast
Reinforcing a battle
From my ages past
The last gasp
At trying to tame the night
I will war with words
My cape is my cognac
And my shield is the feel
Of my notebook in my lap
Where my pen is the sword
That arms my mind
Using concepts like scepters
Where my lantern and lecture
Will come with the only question
He has never been able to answer
WHY?
Why is it that when I decide
To look
Inside of your eyes
I find the familiar trace
To the scars of the denied
That covered Emmit Till’s face
WHY?
Why is the sound of your voice?
In my ears, ringing
Like the sound of Four Little Girls
Whose Spirits are still displaced?
Trapped in the benign case
A bombed Churches cross space
WHY?
Why won’t someone
Please go to Harlem
And open the doors
Of the Audubon
To let the life still lying
On those walls
Roam free
And lay ever so gently
Within the cause
Behind the minds
Of our continual fight
Why? Why?
WHY?
I do not know why
But I will say this
Citizens of mind fuck metropolis
I will continue to fight him
Every yawn that I take
Will slight him
As I continue to write
Until it stains my wrist
I am a day walker
Patiently awaiting
Nosferatu’s blind plight
The sunshine comforts me
As a queen who sends me
To the bowels of her sight
There, alone in the darkness
Of her closed eyes
I again, shall wait
To war, with The Night
The Night
The Night