I have roamed the night streets till its lights weaken and the moths retire. In my head, all the sad thoughts made way.
I have smiled at early morning strangers returning from sweat drenched work. In my heart I always question the subtle madness of life.

How the sunrises without a seconds delay for any soul or the moons departure without consideration for anybody's sleep.
I have searched my spirit as I search the street for an overdose of midnight gladness. It might cost, but still it takes me away from my pitiful self.

Searching for that speck of sense that will trigger a revolution in my world, an uprising in my spirit that will resist the urge of dying slowly and silently as I cross shadows in the streetlight night after night.

The night is my life of solitude; the streetlights are the sunrises, my transient hopes. The rest of the world is madness, subtle madness, and pure madness.

by Olutayo K. Osunsan

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