The Night

a poem by Lakshman

The long day is over,
the night is out,
the party next door has started,
I can hear the music,
piercing the creeping silence.
I switch on the TV,
variety of channels to surf,
I’m awake again
in the wilderness of civilisation,
between sound and vision
while the other senses dwell deep,
making me feel weary
about today’s failures,
in the classroom,
facing the trials of education
before the ruthless teachers,
their work, my burden
their tests, my failures.
In the room next door
my creators,
always late from work
even if early,
their hymns in praise,
of the boy next door.
I’m afraid more of the day,
when everyone else in gay,
I’m in fright,
my solace has always been the night.
The dark world,
wherein solitude places me in comfort
as the king of my dreamfort,
I rule
every moment I lost, with a bit of smoke
from nostrils,
they are my oxygen, I’m in paradise,
daring to face tomorrow’s hell.
With a lot to yell,
I cry,
hoping someday,
there may be tears of joy,
in these wide open eyes.
I don’t want to sleep a wink,
for my ship of dreams is already
about to sink.