It's a black night,
Folding around me,
That time of night when the city sleeps.
It's too late for people to party,
It's too early for the early birds to rise,
Just me and that solitary night.
That time when the demons are said to come,
The witching hour when people stay in bed,
But that hour just surrounds me.
The train car is empty,
The sound of tracks in the dark,
The rhythmic bump as I look out.
The sidewalk bare,
The tap of my shoes,
As I walk cloaked by the shadows.
A passing car,
Someone who revels in the folds,
Enjoying the empty streets.
The stars and moon are hidden,
Heavy clouds I presume,
Taking in the silent night.
The jingle of my keys,
As I open my door,
Rest awaits my body.
I slip into bed,
As I feel that folding night,
Say see you next time.