The street was empty, dark and desolate
Its quietness whispered something only I could hear,
And spellbound, I soaked in the colour of the night.
The cold light from the ATM in the corner
And the occasional blinking car speeding by
Reminds me where I am, and my fear
Takes the colour of the street light:
A dull yellow, used to shining every night.
Yet, my legs refuse to move faster.
I pause for a moment, and shut my eyes,
Feeling the November cold brushing my ears.
I block out the lights, the cars, until I feel
The magical perfection of the night,
In a way I can never feel when my eyes are open,
When my fear shines dully, like the street light.