Black Hole


Like a colossal black hole,

the pitiless night devours

every glowing shred of light,

generating an impenetrable

darkness for the pilgrim

groping home.


Darkness is its own reward.

The lines on the highway

disappear into pavement.

Compasses swirl counter-

clockwise, blind to true north.

Death hides behind bushes, reaching

out to snatch the unwitting soul.


I yearn to embrace the night

in all its inhumanity, to find

its dark spot for the flaneur.

But there is no shadow of

direction. The night hides

within itself, dense and tragic,

like a Puccini opera.

Who can sing its arias?


A colossal black hole,

the night compacts every

beam of light. Who can lift

the curtain of darkness

that falls across our lives?

Who can bring light back

to the world?

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