Darkness flows

Like careless spilt draught,
of poison most foul.
A night begins,
and the darkness flows.

O'er land lain fallow for long,
yearning for plough and love.
O'er brook, ever babbling,
now with a touch of hysteria.

What bony shoulders,
shaken from long slumbers,
may shrug their indifference,
when such a night comes to visit living flesh.

The young trash about,
their vitality drained from limbs,
in the throes of their dreams,
now turned to darker purpose.

And the old lay sleepless,
in beds no longer their own,
their lips dried and cracked
as prayers evaporate and die.

Such a dark night, is this night,
and the poison spreads,
like a stain, invisible yet heavy,
upon this land.