Not all are wired to appreciate a moonless night.

A cold ,haunting darkness that devours the world.

Poor souls wandering the twilight, drunk on the day before.

Stumbling from lamp post to lamp post.

As clueless and lost as the moths circling above.

You take a piss, bathed in the street light.

It splashes on your shoes.

Just a few more blocks, then you can rest.

Smiling as you daydream of the dreamless sleep that awaits.

A few more light posts and there’ll be home.

God damn dogs barking, destroying the peace and tranquility.

The world’s so much better when everyone else is asleep.

It’s better living in the darkness.

The full moon is overrated.

The nights the moon’s too depressed to rise are for me.

Sets a fitting metaphor for the lost.

While you smell of piss and cigarettes.

A woman’s scream echoes off the buildings.

“I’ve got my own problems lady!”

Just another one of the mysteries of the night.