Good and bad are like
Darkness and day,
Night and light,
Some people say.

But hush, shy world,
Let us whisper and conspire:
the sun has flown away.

Will you be my arbiter
between beauty and
truth, nightflower?

A bursting, jubilant wildfire
of crisp color sleeps by day
in her casket of aridgreen
stained leather leaves, while

the world spins
mad in the void
spawning evil and good
by the clock, but

she blossoms
in background
radiation.

He rolls, whispering,
laying his worldshade
on the houses and the rooms.

Her folded fingers shield
her shaded dreams
from the harmful frequencies
that burn the day.

until gentle
eyes of night
peel her thorny blankets back
with desire and darkness
to a defenseless finery
of petals.

© 2013 Kaweah