Black Night

The arid fields of dusty silver
lie fallow for years and years that pass
in the farewell trembling hues
of the night too black and dazzling
to look real.

The placid ponds of gilded lilies ripple
with the sinking shades of this suffocating
twilight, the black night's faithful employee.

The corrupted fates of grandeur,
formerly sparkling, now vexed and weary,
lie scattered on the banks
which the nightly Rider of Justice haunts.

copyright 2003 Vladimir Orlov