You’d sleep during the day
Cadaverously comatose almost.
The night chill wandered in
From the sea, dark and sinister
Till everything in its path just froze
Like a pillar of stone;
But you didn’t feel it.
You’d spring to life
Resurrected and revitalised,
Like some nocturnal apparition
Wrapped in bright flamboyant colours
That turned pale,
Just as the temporal thrill of the night
Faded when dawn beckoned.
You were aware of time
Constantly looking at your watch;
Days were your bête noire.
Mysterious, impenetrable and soulless;
You were odourless too.
I realised only too late;
You were a ghost.
