In the silence of the midnight, I’m alive, electric skin,
scrolling through the glow, the night’s where I begin.
The world sleeps, but I pace the confines of my mind,
chasing fleeting thoughts that daylight never finds.
I own the dark, the quiet hours that nobody claims,
in the hush, my heart beats loud, free from daylight’s chains.
Yes, it’s madness, maybe it’s a ride that will consume,
but in these breathless shadows, my passions resume.
I pen down dreams on paper, as the clock ticks its disdain,
every moment’s heavy with a joy that’s close to pain.
Crashing at two, awake by four, a cycle too entwined,
with a life that burns too bright to close these eyes of mine.
Headaches pound, ears ring with the echoes of the lost,
I pay the price gladly, for the night knows my cost.
They say it’s self-destruction, but I say it’s rebirth,
finding comfort in the quiet corners of the earth.
So I’ll greet the dawn with weary eyes but a soul that’s fed,
on the silent, sacred moments while the world lay in bed.
They’ll never understand why I treasure this slow burn,
the night holds my secrets, and for more, I always yearn.