Be it the starry sky or the continuous hymns swimming their ways in the atmosphere, the time after evenfall is indeed accounted to be one of the most beautiful hours of the day. In an attempt of subtle acknowledgement, here is a poem titled: A NIGHT SO SILENT.
As the cascade of lilac and orange,
Dawned through the sparkling azure,
As the resounding glow of priceless amber,
Swifts through the alleys of twilight,
Beckoning the speckled crystals in sight.
An infinite surge of an expanse of velvety black,
Is what looks with those stars faraway,
Embedded in the inky canvas of unheard frays,
A night so cold, so noisily silent,
Tugging the chords of glory with which it was meant.
Little creatures of flutter designate to their homes,
The darkened lake aroused with flies of fiery lullaby,
As the hearts of the child so sweet ignites subtly,
Weaving the coloured threads of unanimous dreams,
Garnering the dark and kindling aura as far as it seems.