On the lonely nights

The darkest nights of all

When I feel the urge that always finds its way to my heart

I gravitate without thought to the smallest room in the house

My favorite room

Pieces of me are strewn across the space

The soft walls close in on the darkness

Lit only by the faint shine of the Christmas lighs

Hanging from the ceiling

It is spiritual and calming

I close my eyes

All alone

And I wait

The gloomy glow of the red lights on a Marshall amp

Glide through the air

The distant hum of the cabinet

Flows against the cold seeping in from the window

On these nights I play the blues

The blues are easy to play, but hard to feel

But on nights like this, the notes force their way out

The sly aura of the impending darkness

Invades of inch of the small room

Through the haze I can see the face of the devil

Asking to play my guitar