He hides, blanketed by seclusion,
and the truth.
Goosebumps, and hot glass,……trembling.
The night sky and all that it has,
envelopes the mood,
blasphemous and proud;
like a freshly laid fog.
Desire is useless; foiled by the prey.
Pounding the chest of reason,
as the sun disappears,
and the demons come out,