The Night

By Shrushti Gaikwad

The night is young right now. 

Streets are filled with others, 

Youths glowing in their small groups, 

So are the elders, 

Everyone has someone, 

Those without, have their phones for comfort. 

The night, it remains young, even now. 

If I played a song into the night, 

though soft, it still hears. 

If I approached the night, 

Though from afar, it still sees. 

The night, it remains young… 

It is a deep, deep night. 

Streets are filled with silence and loneliness, Youths are glowing in their homes, 

So are the elders, 

Everyone has someone, 

Everyone rests their head on their pillow. 

Those wandering the streets, 

Have their phones to keep them awake. 

In the deep, deep night. 

If I played a song softly, 

I’d hear it loudly. 

If I approached even from afar, 

I’d see myself clearly. 

Being awake then, 

Being awake now. 

I watch the night grow old from young, 

I stare into the abyss as the night grows from light to dark. I watch the night, give it company. 

As I black out, the night watches me back.

By Shrushti Gaikwad