The night is coming
creeping, crawling, towering over
as the day is unbecoming.
Crickets buzzing,
fireflies bursting out to hover.
The night is coming.
Purple, yellow, orange, sinking,
the glowing sphere falling lower
as the day is unbecoming.
Pitch black flying,
flurrying in this dark hour .
The night is coming.
The cold is numbing,
the light settling below the controller
as the day is unbecoming.
Time is slowing,
the shadows gaining their composure.
The night is coming
as the day is unbecoming.