In The Death Of Night

In the dead of night, a man begins his flight into darkness,
He says, "The earthy plains and the rivers of might bow down
To objects of delight, fierce winds arise, and earth is no more."

Spaces of the light, you can be him too, like Love be him;
Instead of wine that drops from a height, drain the cup of harm,
Like a delivery of sighing science so succulent and sweet.

The chemistry of the soils are abiding in a hellish land,
In the death is a desolation, a whole whale or real cause,
This is physical work as the world revolves around the sun.

The biology of the brain is in the dead of nights stealing from light,
It is like the offence and defence of a strategy, inner goals and us;
Your plague binds to the heart of troubles so empty and obscure.