The Night

Whispers of yellowing leaves,

Dissolve in the dying night,

As they watch the breeze,

Welcome to the soft twilight.

Sunlight peeps reluctantly,

Unsure of its elegance,

Even as the night faintly,

Asserts its eminence.

The night has hidden,

In crevices unseen,

Till the sun tires himself,

And begin to lose his sheen.

Patience is a virtue of the night,

As he measures the shadows,

Watches with a smirked delight,

The bolder and longer they grow.

He waits for the light,

To crawl back to sleep,

And akin the dark knight,

Conquers the landscape.