Nightsounds - An attempt at a sonnet
Past midnight hour, when most distractions die,
A brave new phonic world, unheard of, blooms
As if it were but delicate remnant fumes
From a blaze that charred the noise of the day gone by.
A brave new world of subtle sounds that try
To grow from one of night-time's many wombs;
And ere the morrow sends them to their tombs,
To steadily claim their share of our sky.
Obscurity! Relentless sonic haze!
Distant dissonance! Stubborn nightsounds!
Desist! I am a creature of day's light;
They rob me of my rest, your evil ways!
For your very existence confounds
The hoax that is the silence of the night.
-Srijan
A brave new phonic world, unheard of, blooms
As if it were but delicate remnant fumes
From a blaze that charred the noise of the day gone by.
A brave new world of subtle sounds that try
To grow from one of night-time's many wombs;
And ere the morrow sends them to their tombs,
To steadily claim their share of our sky.
Obscurity! Relentless sonic haze!
Distant dissonance! Stubborn nightsounds!
Desist! I am a creature of day's light;
They rob me of my rest, your evil ways!
For your very existence confounds
The hoax that is the silence of the night.
-Srijan
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