Saturday, November 9th, 2013

The night gets darker, and so do I. The skies get emptier, and so do I. The trees get colder, and so do I. The buildings fade away, and so do I. The artists stay up late, and so do I. The lovers miss someone, and so do I. The loners get depressed, and so do I. The city sleeps, but neither do I. I am the artist who doesn't paint, the lover that doesn't love, the loner who isn't alone. I am only what is left of my soul. The darkness, the emptiness, the cold, the fading. I am the night. The night dies so that the day can begin, and so will I.