Night Time
Lies, delusions,
New worlds.
The moon listens,
The stars understand.
Masks of pain,
Disguises of glib habit;
The clown no longer laughs,
But the tears have been hid.
Is quietude that which is blessed?
Is silence the blesséd?
The heart seeks,
But it is locked in a box.
Where is that ray of light?
Mocking is the darkness.
Where is the water?
Laughing is the desert.
Deep in thought,
Time rolls by.
The moon listens,
The stars understand.
ShekaRIM, ashlaYOT,
OlaMOT ĥadaSHIM.
Ha-yarÉ'aĥ makSHIV,
ha-koĥaVIM mevinIM
This poem is copyright 2002 The Twighlight Wolf, to whom comments may be sent.
