You are the tapestry of shadows,

And secrets which have escaped trembling lips

And scarred hearts

Have been sewn into your folds of midnight.

You are the loyal friend

That turns up on my doorstep when

Even the Sun has forsaken my presence

The friend

Who shall always bring bandages

To cover the wounds Daytime has seared into my spirit

The friend

Who casts into shadow the many fox-faced

Beings among whom my wretched soul treads.

You are an angel, dark and silent

To whom the Sun-induced shadow that follows

Me when I walk among the ranks of society

Cannot compare.

Your wordless companionship

Allows the blood of Vitality to once more surge through

The glass vials and tubes

That is my heart

And your blackness slowly fills

The holes that have been chipped into my soul

By the barbed words of Humanity.

Your presence cannot be driven out

By the wavering, uncertain lights

That cover the grotesque settlements of Man

Like ashes in an ancient fireplace

Who try and fail to smother the young, glowing embers

Within.

You are the unseen hand of God

Majestic in your ethereal beauty

Who has, for eons,

Set upon the brows of sleeping children

The blessing of Peace.