Busy beds in quiet homes
Carry the weight of snoring men
The cries of the oceans grow louder
As the silvery shadows of the moon fall upon it.
Trees stand still and idly in the forest,
Staring at chirping birds retiring to their nests
To escape the doom of the night.
The ants are creeping out of their graves
To gather tiny things
Things that will sustain them during winter
When the earth becomes unforgiving.
When darkness shines brighter than the light
It is nightfall
Every creature must either stand still
Or fight to stay alive.
Image Sourced from Google under the fair use policy
I am 
, the young man who goes about carrying his magical pen, not his gun, in his pockets.
Gif courtesy of
