"Whisper," said the gentle night, as it drifted through the trees.

"Don't be too loud; they're not awake," A voice said on the breeze.

"Their eyes are sealed, but ears can't shut," the moon above me warned.

"And if they wake, the night will stop. And we will be no more."

"I miss the day so very much," I told the looming night.

"I crave the warmth, the sun, the grass, I want to have the light."

"But with the sun and warmth and light, we all would melt away!"

The night would be alone again. "You really want the day?"

"No one seems to want us here. Perhaps we should just go.

"If we just leave and don't come back, would anybody know?"

I like sun more than the moon, the warmth more than the breeze,

But I can't leave the night alone; forgiveness isn't free.

I told the night that I would stay for just a while more.

But still I will anticipate what morning has in store.