Dead of Night

Written by Miguel Santiago

In the quiet depths, night draws its velvet curtain, a blanket of hush over the wearied world. The hustle of the day, now a gust of memory, whispering through the sleeping trees.

The incredible kiss of moonlight graces the world’s cheek as stars spill scattered secrets across the endless dark. Not a dead night, but alive, teeming with silent tales told in the language of light and shadow.

Underneath its midnight cloak, the world takes a deep breath – a pause, a rest. The buzz of life’s routine mellows into a hum, the day’s harsh lines softened by the night’s gentle touch.

The barefoot quiet tiptoes, notes crafted in the key of peace, a melody that makes even restless hearts yield to slumber. A crescent moon hangs a beacon for dreamers, guiding their muted steps through the halls of sleep.

In this cradle of darkness, secrets bloom like nightshade, unchained by the harsh glare of daylight. They dance with the whispers of the wind. Troubles unfold and unwind, making peace with the soft lull of the night.

Shadows cluster and chatter, swaddled within the night’s embrace, the intrigues of obscurity painted with broad strokes. A quiet tenor resonates as the world wanes and waxes, succumbing to the rhythm of the twilight.

Yet, with the echoing hoot of the owl and the chill kiss of the haze, there is a silent knowing – a promise of light waiting at the night’s end. Dawn’s soft sigh lingered on the…