The Night Poem by Mark Heathcote

The nights an intrinsic part of you,
You can't hide, you can't play peekaboo
The night's something you can't devalue.

There is no ambiguity here
The night wants to consume you and sneer
Devour you like a wolf insincere.

Its nocturnal howls sense taste fresh blood
It wants to creep up; also be loved
Wants to enter-your-ribs, be indulged.

It's-got carnal desires it consumes
Whatever it wishes—and entombs;
Even stars of heaven it costumes.

The night has a growing-appetite
That glows just as bright as candlelight
But doesn't mean we can't, satellite.

Internally, radioactive
Be-star-like, a distant fugitive
Beam back good images more positive.