Night & Day

The silent midnight is when the crying angel stops by,

somewhere around my house.

She confiscates my laughter, my smile,

my chisinization, my status, etc.

It is mournfully dumpy. It's heartaching. So aching.

Waving to the dawn and sunrise,

She flies away and then disappears herself.

She then returns everything she grabbed away during the midnight.

Another fresh page will have been turned to.

Awaiting for the brand new day.

nights.