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Unholy Night
December 9, 2012
Keep me warm; I’m frightened.
The sun has gone away.
How lives a lonely maiden,
Who lives without the day?
Hark, be that dawn breaking?
No, 'tis but a jest.
What sort of night be holy,
That keeps me from my rest?
Nature loves to smite me,
To keep away the light,
And without my sanction,
To steal the stars of night.
Our moon is but a mirror;
For naught without the sun.
In devil's dark unyielding,
Night's dream and fright are one.
© Lauren M., Scotch Plains, NJ
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