"Under cover of darkness..."
Sounds like a phrase ominous,
And could be boding of much...
Under cover of darkness,
Henry V recites his St. Crispin speech,
Pulling me awake at 4 in the morn,
Or maybe it was 3?
Not sure if my roommate awoke, too..
But the speech? Ah, it was Branaugh - a memorable one.
Under cover of darkness,
I toil away, marking off sandwiches,
At the ill-lit store,
Which still draws customers in,
Looking to light up
Just one cigarette more.
Under cover of darkness,
I saunter out upon the streets,
Perhaps with fellow drunks to meet,
Or maybe just to grab some tacos to eat...
I feel this false safety,
Blindly unaware of dangers dogging my feet.
Under cover of darkness,
Do the spies meet in back alleys?
To trade secrets and cash
With fears that this night may be their last?
Much happens under the moon's lunacies,
And secrets are secured by starlight,
So, creature of the night that I am,
I give you the above
As truths whispered
Under cover of darkness.
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