Nights Are Perfect For Art

By Omar Jawed Shaikh

Nights are perfect for art,

Not art of love and happiness

Nights are for lonely artists

Dark rooms are a perfect theater

No cast no script, ceilings are nothing but waiting silver screens

On thin vinyl, the mind directs a Melancholy scene

Soft pillows are perfect for poetry,

Lonely hours when broken hearts hug stuffed cotton

On white covers, written are verses, with tears their ink

Open windows are perfect for painting,

The lone moon, empty streets, halo of streetlamps and rain drops on glass pane,

A still capturing the souls every pain

Silence come nightfall, perfect for music,

An unfair irony. Quiet moments coerce sounds of old memories.

By some means, unfulfilled dreams make tranquil symphonies

Restless cribs are perfect for stories,

Cobblestone mattresses fashion desire for a peaceful sleep,

Only crocked cradles fabricate soulful tales

Nights are perfect for art

Art of despair and sorrow,

Only to lonely artists, belong the unruly nights

By Omar Jawed Shaikh