When the city darkens

 When the city darkens,

and the crowds dissolve into whispers,

when the lights bow out one by one-

I stand here, watching,

like an elegant courtesan,

face polished, jewels shimmering,

lips painted with desire,

eyes stirred with restless tides of lust-

waiting…

just waiting.

I can hear thieves running and the sharp whistles of the police,

a tense symphony in the shadows.

Far away, the wailing sound of a siren rushes past,

cutting through the night-an urgent cry,

a reminder of the chaos that never quite sleeps.

Down these emptied streets,

a stray beam from a passing vehicle

splashes briefly, then disappears,

revealing, for a fleeting heartbeat,

the true children of the night-

humans and dogs,

draped across the city’s open bed,

asleep in exhaustion,

their pavement homes their only sanctuary.

Hunger loosens the last knot of shame;

I see a drunken man stumble,

his power echoing in the shadows,

on a woman whose only crime

is trying to survive till dawn-

her silent plea,

a whisper lost in the dark.

The moon watches silently,

a cold witness to broken dreams,

to hopes that flicker and fade,

to stories written in bruises,

in tears, in silent cries.  

I know there’s still a long way

before night relinquishes its hold,

before dawn’s light filters through

the cracks of broken windows,

before these secrets-

these raw, unspoken truths-

are finally unmasked.

So I sip my strong roadside tea,

walk a little more,

and watch the truths-

the raw, unspoken truths-

that only a night watchman knows-

truths that stir awake

when the city sleeps,

truths that linger in the shadows,

waiting for their moment to be seen.