Literature
Deep In the Reach of Night
It is deep into the reach of night
The stars are curling their last ballet,
And the breezes rest silent in their trees.
No fanfare strains in the slips,
To bridle absolution
In golden cords of elemental magic and sound.
The world is at rest,
Waiting for dawn.
Neverland, come to me.
Whisper me off to some speckled horizon,
Where quiet veins of dying starlight
Still pale the sky with filigreed constellations.
Lull me to some rest in the hush of the deep.
Float me to some tomorrow;
For in that sigh of life,
What dreams may come
When I have fallen on the cusp of nothingness,
To close to shake the secrets from the void,
Too far to
