Paragraphed

Nighttime, night sky, not quite goodnight. Night lights fight the dark in vain, even as they're devoured by those monsters hidden so craftily in their habitats of choice. Extinguished, you're draped in shadows, like a king and his regalia, come sit on your throne, ghastly court fawning at your feet. Skeletons dance from your closet, stronger than ever, mocking so subtly. Your whole retinue is laughing at your, their jeers disguised as cheers, smirks hidden by adoring smiles. Stand up and take off your crown in disgust, eyes finally open to what you reign over, nose finally opened to the rotting stench that they can never be rid of. Try to escape but they're not having that, they all attack, you try to fight back the only way you know how, by turning on

the lights