CA ( / Poetry Hell, Vermont)

Creatures Of The Night

There's a tale of reckless souls
Who live only by the night…
They find comfort in the dark,
Hope, in stars' pale, glowing light.

Young and reckless, they await
With abandon in their eyes
As the day comes to an end,
And the moon begins its rise

As the sun sets, they all gather.
Summer nights, they take the streets;
They release their hopeless worries
In a search for memories.

Nights on end of tricking fate
Morning come, they seem to crumble
Under the enormous weight
Of this cold, meaningless rumble…

Bold, bright creatures of the night
Feed on cheapest wine and hope
And the dream of oceans' waves…
And they blur their minds with smoke;

Drunk on dreams and burning sorrow
Their eyes burn like smoking coals
Buried in the night's embrace
Lies the tale of reckless souls…

by Alexandra Barcan

Comments (8)

I was going to say nice fantasy, but actually being shipwrecked would be terrible. I especially like the touch of the bumble-bee with its own agenda.
And where do find a mechanic on a Friday afternoon?
great story. cant say more than i think its great! al
A momentary daydream for your privileged reader. Superb. t x
Like the way you've refined this, the nautical imagery and language serve their purpose well and mislead the reader to the end. Particularly like the image you created of 'the sea of cars rolling past'. Justine
See More