Is a fiercely misunderstood entity.
It blankets the world in a comforting black cloak,
Leaving room for thoughts, rest, and peace,
And yet the night is feared.
The night is feared because thinking
Can be a frightfully dangerous pastime.
Is there anything lurking in the shadows to be feared,
Or do we fear the perceived "darkness" leaking from our own souls
Made harder to conceal in the night's inky blackness?
The darkness is beautiful.
Were it not for the dark,
We would never see the stars.