The Night

The darkness burns brighter than the sun, speaks the truth,
Screams yet we cannot hear, deja-vu oblivious to it's mysterious lullaby,
Cocoons of protection are nothing against the velvet pillar,
On which our society stands,
Perhaps you hear the voice it speaks? It's incoherent tongue,
Instead lost in memories, a faint chuckle,
Two syllables which are sweet as what they describe - honey,
In the labyrinth of tousle-haired dreams and secret smiles,
Yet your passion aflame deepens the Night around you,
His cloak is your warmth and the smoke is his plaything,
Fluent and graceful to make you more sure of anything,
But also to prickle at your fears, knock-knock,
Just tapping at the door of your mind, a rhythm which your head can't stand,
Are you there? In a state of paralysis count the goose bumps,
To hear faint squawking, your hair dancing to the rhythm,
The moon has never been so pronounced,
And it is smiling as the Cloaked chases you,
Peering through the holes into the stars, you're back to square one,
Because the gems in black shine as his eyes,
Crystal spheres to Utopia beyond the restrictions of mere imagination,
Just the smallest in a world of thousands,counting the sands of time,
But the hourglass is broken the golden glitter is like ashes,
Feel them in your mouth, sudden realisation - ashes are the two sweet syllables,
This memory scarred deeply into your retinas,
Is the fine golden key, to step out of insanity at last.

If you didn't get it, it was about someone getting over their fear of the dark :)