The Gathering Gloom

Moonlight drops quilted darkness 

over all the tops.

A smothering hush, 

lush from Nature's palette knife

stops the chatter. 

Its syrup drops 

to soothe barking dogs 

and sweeten savage tempers. 

It spans but a heartbeat.

An asystolic silence.

A drawn breath 

before the death of Eros.

Mankind, no wiser 

for his years,

still fears the cruel cadence

that severs day and dusk.

Life breaks the spell;

Night's creatures crying triumph.

Neath Obsidian black,

the scarlet hue of slaughter

will paint man's inner eye.

And try, though well he might,

to pass the night in slumber,

he'll ponder if he's seen the death of light.