Mr. Night

By P Sasikanth

The night is young and beautiful

With twinkling stars and drifting clouds,

It seems pleasant and calm.

Then why do I feel the inverse?

Why do I feel it as a camouflage??

masking the horrors beneath.

Like a cold smile on a hunter’s face,

It seems odd,

oddly pleasant and oddly attractive.

But how strange it is?

Though we feel the horrors in our blood,

We still step into the hunter’s mirage.

Is it the trust we put in his wicked smile?

Or the foolish confidence of outwitting the hunter himself?

I don’t know…

But for today, I don’t trust you Mr. Night.

Demons lurk in your shadows

And horrors happen in your coldblooded silence.

No,

I don't trust you tonight.

Maybe I’ll step-in...

some night,

to face the demons and the horrors,

I’m sure I will.

And that would be with no trust nor foolish confidence.

But with a gun in my belt and a torch in my hand…

Till then….

By P Sasikanth