As soon as the night
Begins to grow and is full;
When all the bright
Things of day look dull.
And all the beautiful creatures of light go to bed;
There comes a shadow – stealingly overhead.
A shadow; so huge, ugly and dark;
As it comes, it leaves no mark;
A shadow too big, bulky and strong;
Begins to flow all night long.
Up and over; it begins to gather;
Its dirty intentions in black lather;
In the moonless light, as black as it can be;
The shadow of the dark – zooms free.
The shadow that has a flailing flair,
In the dark, it enjoys to flare.
Secretly erupting from nowhere.
To the unflinching minds it begins to scare.
It loves to threaten the nerves.
Little does it know; no purpose it serves.
Its work is only well-pretended.
Every purpose it embarks is evil-intended.
Its actions deny its very own words;
Speaking of sorrow, sufferings and swords;
Capturing thoughts to imprison minds;
It tries to dampen spirit and wind.
But the horizon of velvet-green-plane
Chases the shadow from the window-pane.
And from fear of the dawn of the rising-light;
It shall lose the battle of virtue each night.
