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Drew's Plays, Prose & Poems
Poetry by Rachel A. Gold

Prince Of Night

Drew Hurley

I am the Prince of Night;
born at night,
to live at night.
I ride no white charger.
I am myself.
Alone.

.

.

Dreaming in the solitude
of sleepless nights,
realities are constructed,
and torn down,
while I lie in thought
hoping for the courage
to face day.
And when she comes I collapse,
exhausted,
in the dung-heap
of my fitful night,
to pass her by
without the merest recognition
of her name.
When she has gone,
I climb from my bedded haven
to torture myself
with the memory
of that which I have not done.
To pass away the hopeless hours
of endless agony,
I build models of the universe
and play
at being god.
All the enemies,
the unthinkable invaders
of the tumultuous galaxies,
the dreadful sorrows
and problems of the distant
far-flung spheres
I can put to flight,
and solve,
with the upsweep
of my hand.
But I am too afraid
to live my live
a man.

.

.

I am the Prince of Night;
born at night,
to live at night.
I ride no white charger.
I am myself.
Alone.

.

.




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Tuesday, 04-May-2010 14:47:48 EDT