The Night’s Voice

Dear readers,

I can’t sleep. Here’s a poem to pass the time.

The night’s voice

Eerie does it speak,
Screaming volumes of solitude,
As anger and frustration seep from my thoughts and echo silently the dawn’s air.
The drunken hoot,
A territorial howl,
My enemies in the dark deathly glare.
A girl’s wail of passion,
A waving echo of a pistol,
The useless sinful desire to crush those who undermine me.
The tired engine drawling,
A ghostly shake of the door,
I pray for my frustrated mind to let me be.
The blurred neon lamps,
That once made the evening loud,
I want to embrace its lonely light.
A calming breeze,
A sleeping balm,
Please carry me in tomorrow’s fight.

About Nicholas Rogers

I am an English journalist/copywriter living in Tegucigalpa, Honduras, and I have been here since 2011. I originally came to work with Casa Alianza, which supports street kids and vulnerable youths. I then stayed on, after meeting Pamela Cruz Lozano, who calls me her adopted Catracho. I work freelance journalism and I have my own translation business. Why did I come here? For the challenge, to open my mind and get out of my comfort zone. I love literature and I've written a book with street kids. I write novels, short stories and poetry, all of which you will find on this blog, as well as a lot of information about Honduras. View all posts by Nicholas Rogers

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