The Night Time always Finds him Alone

 

By Tim Nwaobilo

The night time always finds him alone
Drawing from the tempest that lulls him to sweet slumber

To cast away the worries of the lonely world 

Maybe one day a saviour will arise 

Amidst the ashes in which he dwells

But the night time always finds him alone.

He is used to the fading lights

The ones he alone sees even in a crowd

Of struggling thoughts itching to breathe

The air of despondency that hits his skin

It's the dots of these memories that keep his soul whole 

Alone, upon a mountain on a night alone.

Heart beats--humming bees masquerade his voice

How he survives the night, he wonders by day

Those buckling twigs he owns for legs

Crippled by calloused knees

The night is quick and silent

Except when the night's in his head.

The V of his horizon funnels in a wicked stance 

Yellowed by fading sounds and sights

Sounds of music from a far-off land

One he alone knows--and goes

But the night time always finds him alone

Yet the night time always finds him alone.

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