In the midnight hour

​I know it too. 

To be scared of losing something before it begins.

Of never knowing the warmth of a touch upon yours. 

Of missing out on what could have been your best.

Come, let the night pass, the worry will too. And the light of the sun, when it comes, will tear at your distress and the ruling of the day will belittle these nocturnal thoughts. 

Let’s not heed to the call of the midnight hour any more. 

Let’s not be part-time poets and philosophers musing over thoughts that invite themselves upon the drop of silence. 

Let’s go to sleep. You won’t lose me overnight. 


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