Midnight still, yet everything standing still,
The whole city hushed into sleep,
Lullabied by suffocating heat,
Cradled by crushing humidity,
Soothed by dreams of early mornings.

Even the dark anticipates daybreak,
So as to go to bed, and have a break,
Even the dark gets tired of being dark,
Gets tired of its nightshifts,
Of being counter-clockwise,
Of being good council, of playing the wise,
The dark inspires writers, fixes problems, muses poets,
The dark maddens insomniacs, rushes the tides,
The dark does this, the dark does that.

The dark just wants to go to sleep,
Like the rest of us,
The dark would love a 9 to 5 job,
The dark just wants to be left alone,
Wants to enjoy an early evening,
Wants to call in sick,
Wants to quit with no prior notice,
And to hell with the indemnities.

The dark wants to be the light,
To see the buzzing streets,
To greet people with puffy eyes,
To have morning coffee,
With no fear it might disturb its day sleep,
To see shops openings,
And catch the newspaper headlines fresh,
To have breakfast in bed,
After a good night’s sleep.

Even the dark gets tired of being dark.