Lying here alone in the night,
Waiting wearily for the dawn,
Not reading, avoiding thinking,
And the lights are always on.

I don't really remember when
This particular habit began,
But I know it wasn't something
That I learned in the Nam;

I certainly didn't deliberately sit
Bathed in revealing light -
Not if I wanted to go on living
Through the thick, ominous night.

Now I lie here wide awake
Waiting quietly for the day,
While barriers of light beams
Hold prowling shadows at bay.

Night oft becomes my days,
daytime becomes my night,
when darkness turns to grays,
and disturbs my inner sight.

We are not conscious of the ghosts,
That visit us in our sleep,
Yet they become our hosts,
To prevent us counting sheep.

When darkness turns to black
Then life will be no more,
As the light that we now lack,
Will slowly be restored...

That we from sleep awake,
To the vision we prayed for,
Beyond our last mistake,
To live for ever more.

I can cope with the darkness
I can handle pitch black
Though I can't see an outline
I am used to the lack

I'm familiar with contrast
apprehension, mistrust
I'm resigned to the cobwebs
though allergic to dust

It's the charcoal that gets me
and those deep shades of grey
When the light in my kitchen
meant to show me the way

has been turned off forever
by some permanent switch
you might still hear me mumble
you might still see me twitch

They say black is too morbid
I should cling to the light
And as long as you're living
I won't give up the fight

But if you should surrender
or drift off in the haze
than my days will lose meaning
And those sad shades of grays –

Will be more comfort to me
then the light of the day
I can cope with the darkness
If you show me the way

What is there
in the dark
that is not
there in the light?
Why are fears
so much more
intensified in
the night?
Are they not the same fears
that are real in the light
or is it that memory
just plays
its scenes
more vividly
upon the blackest
of night's screens?

In light
I cannot think
there is too much to see,
even though I blink,
darkness visits me,
In night
I think so much
though I cannot see
with light I'm out of touch
but in darkness
I am free.

Fears from the past
that, in the day,
are by the light
held at bay
are freer to roam
through shadowy gloom
when revealing light
has left the room.
The mind is not
distracted then
by the affairs
of other men.
Memories we wish
were never born
may people the night
until the morn
when welcome rays
from the rising sun
set them once more
on the run
back to their caves
of remembered pain
to lurk there in shadow
'til night falls again.