Bedlamite Night

The night was dark; my body shuddered.
A noisy restlessness followed a moan of anguish.
Was I plunging into the trough of the sea?
The silence of the night was bedlamite
its loquacity gave me such a fright.
Had the monsters come for me at midnight?

With a sly ingenuity I tried
to double-talk my way around.
But, alas, they held their ground
stalked; relentlessly mocked
with bared fangs and vicious claws.
How does one justify all this cruelty ?
Their nefarious laws, this cannibalistic ferocity?
These enlightened savages ravaged my psyche.
A noisy silence engulfed me.
Were they aliens or a bunch of liars
discussing tirelessly the nature of truth,
the veracity of mendacity?

Brandishing sinister thoughts like ammunition and firearms
intimidating me like the evil dictates of villains hardcore.
“Fall in line, or else!” rewarding me with power-packed punches.

Tenacious hands grip me by the shoulders, someone tweaks my ears.
Suddenly a tiny voice speaks,
“When the going gets tough, the tough get going.”
I am intrigued by its sublime appeal
its fragile strength wrapped in steel.
The stranded boat starts rowing, and I get going!

4 thoughts on “Bedlamite Night

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *