WHEN THE NIGHT COMES

When the night comes.
I wish to one day share with you,
all that I hoard for you,during the day,
in its intensity inside my heart.
It's an obssesion that travels thru my blood.
Only to equal the obsession of a religious zealot.
It isn't fear of losing,
my power or the magic,
that lives about me these days.
It's a mortal fear of dying without you
or to be eventually forgotten by you..
In my heart, being forgotten, is to be dead.
It is then that my heart becomes so small
at night, when I think of that sordid fate.
I am beside you at night and you cannot feel me.
You cannot hear me whimper my fears.
The fears I hide and subsequently lie about,
by sheer omission of a mention.
When I tell you that I am not longer afraid.

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