The dark

That is an old poem Written by Aldo Kraas

Everything looks different in the dark

Sometimes I imagine that things that are standing still are moving

And they are not; it is only in my mind

The dark sometimes can be frightening

The dark is like a burned paint

The dark must grieve alone for its lost friend

No one around to hear its silence

But the silence so peaceful that tears the heart

I look back as I am walking to see if anyone is following me

But thanks god no one is