N i g h t
Sitting on the rooftop of the old abandoned building, he stared at the dark cloudless sky, questioning its constancy. It was cold, and he felt foolish not bringing his coat with him up there.
He loved the nigh; its quiet, its distinguished fragrance and always wished for it to be everlasting. Yet, he knew it was silly to disclaim its constant destiny.
Thoughtful, he closed his eyes, taking the floating perfume in. The one, he knew, always predicted the night's break down. Dawn was soon to rise, and the sun will surely follow, blowing up morning's unpleasant fog.
Defeated, the night will then vanish without protesting, disappearing in its disgrace.
He loved the nigh; its quiet, its distinguished fragrance and always wished for it to be everlasting. Yet, he knew it was silly to disclaim its constant destiny.
Thoughtful, he closed his eyes, taking the floating perfume in. The one, he knew, always predicted the night's break down. Dawn was soon to rise, and the sun will surely follow, blowing up morning's unpleasant fog.
Defeated, the night will then vanish without protesting, disappearing in its disgrace.