My mind is resting.
Of course, ‘cause the sun is up.
Although I hear its whispers,
I block them out.
I shout beneath my breath,
“Hey you, I’m not alone now”
For the crickets are yet to cry
And the day is here.
Gone is the quietness
That accompanies the night when it arrives.
Gone is the loneliness
That gives voice to my mind, when darkness falls and all noise gone.

When the evening comes and the day says goodbye,
My mind is at its loudest.
When the silence reigns amidst the serenade of the crickets,
My members begin to succumb to the voice of my mind.
Fear grips me when the sun suddenly turns orange
And journeys to its hide out.
When I hear the chirpings of the crickets,
And see the glow of the moon,
I fret why the day is gone all too soon,
Taking with it the day’s noise that ruled over the echoes of my mind,
And setting in place the silence I dread.
‘Cause my mind is at its loudest in the quietness that the evening brings.
And when all is peaceful,
When all is quiet
When all is serene and the breeze blows softly in the abyss of the dark,
Then my mind breaks this tranquility and causes commotion to my sanity.

Everyone is gone, so is the noise of the day.
Yet I continue to walk the streets,
Dreading the very walls of my haven, the warm hugs of my mattress and the cozy arms of my blanket.
For a stage is set already,
With characters prepared and all ready,
Waiting for the honored audience, that’s me,
To arrive, so they can perform the scenes that reminds me of the past I so wish to forget;
The very one my mind has been itching to narrate all day.
That’s the monster I fear when the darkness comes.
For I know perfectly that my eyes will betray me yet again as always,
By refusing to shut close.
My ears seem to be more sensitive to the loud whispers of my mind,
During this hour of the day.
My haven turns into a house of torment and regrets.
As my mind unravels the hidden stories inside
And the characters bring the past memories outside.
Secrets spew out of my mind in the coldness of the dark, when silence reigns as queen of the night.

Yet I know the sun shall rise again,
Then the silence will be broken by the noise of the day.
My mind will go mute yet again,
When the songs of the birds rise with the day.
Nonetheless, these hidden stories will be unfolded at the end of each day,
By the voice of my mind, when the sun sets and silence rules again.



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