In Realities Light Poem by eve Taylor

Stay safe in the light,
for that's where the creatures infest,
so very late at night.
Don't forget Mummy knows best.

Moving along, watching shadows gather on, a young girl cautiously walked. The winds had grown cold as lately it had snowed. Shoving her hands deep into her pockets, she could really feel the chill. The streets no longer looked the same, all of the usual people were gone, she had no one to call out by name. It wasn't too long till she could see the lights of her building. Picking her pace up she quickly walked up the walkway, past a lonely looking stoop and through faded doors into a dimly lit lobby.
It always smelt of a smokey kinda must. Worn carpets on the floors, worn carpets on the walls, it was the same throughout all the halls. Being here wasn't much more of a comfort, but at least she had a room with a strong lock and a very bright light. Four floors up, then a slight left, and she could relax. As she took her hood down and adjusted her sight, it seemed it would probably be a fairly quiet night. A young couple talking in a corner, probably working some kinda deal out and the night manager asleep at his desk. Not bothering to wake him, she signed in and went straight up the stairs to her room.

Her room wasn't much to look at. A doulble bed, a tiny night stand with an imitation Tiffany lamp, a dresser which served as a shelf for her books a tv and a microwave, a comfy chair that reclined, and a tiny bathroom. It was all she needed.

As she locked her door, she could hear the howls of the night. She knew, that even cause of the bitter cold, they would be on the prowel. After all, they were the creatures of the night.

She could recall, even after all this time, that she had once been one of them. Sneaking around the shadows of a less desirable life.

After she turned on the light she felt much more safe to settle down with a simple meal. As she ate she thought that tonight she would write. It seemed like a good night for it. The only other thing she had to do was to remember, what her life used to be like. Tonight she would work on some poetry inspired by a long lost live.

Stay safe in the light,
for that's where the creatures infest,
so very late at night.
Don't forget Mummy knows best.
My bones may be old,
and I may be left to rust,
but remember my stories told,
for my words you can always trust.
Beware of their junkie ways,
and steer clear of the fakes,
only venture into the days,
to live well is what it takes.
You may be damned,
in this wordly hell,
but if in the light you stand,
you'll not feel the burning's swell.