The Core I Orbit - (a poem anthology)

Tonight, the World's Going Dark Again

Makeshift dreams on some occupied beds

of one or two people suffocating in their rest;

Up above are the moon and sun

feeling each other's skin from afar.

Down below are the lonely people

making yearning their tragic birthright.

And tonight, the world's going dark again.

Down the shore, I notice the turtle eggs

hatching, and then they venture to the sea:

then, they got lost in their own home.

Under the roofs, I hear the lonely people

whining, and then they whisper to the walls:

then, they got lost in their own thoughts.

This morning, I watched the glorious sun

shining, and then it vanishes on the horizon.

Then, tonight, the world's going dark again.

The next day, I started writing on a whim,

and as my pen was running out of ink,

the sky turned dark within a single blink;

Seems that tonight, the world's going dark again.

So, I lay myself down on the bed and

I talked with the lonely ceiling overhead;

it tells me how much it misses me every day.

'I'm sorry,' was the best thing I could say.

Yet, somehow, it was enough.

So, the ceiling urges me to go to sleep

but, just like it, I was watching, only blindly.

But then, it consoles me:

'Hey now. Tonight, the world's going dark again.'

The next day, the world's going dark again.

But tonight, the moon is up there, only unseen.

As for the sun? It still shines—somewhere,

for tonight, time is still being so fair.

Besides, the moon needs to go home too.

Besides, the sun needs a break too.

And, besides, tomorrow,

the world's still going to go dark again.

Once the night sky turns clear,

the dim moonlight will return.

The stars, maybe, will shine too,

even when their light may be dying;

even when the dark is their perpetual home.

As for my loss, grief, loneliness and such:

they still remain; loyal. But even so,

at night, when the world's going dark again,

they still need to go home

so they won't get lost

when the world's going dark again.