I MET NIGHTFALL

     I 

met nightfall,

in a huge, conflagration dusty hall .

she got eyes as owls and grins of moonlight;

She whispered darkness, crawled on limp limbs marked with scaly webs.

She smell of sour oil and recurrent mares,

She breathes brim-stones and fire, pestered on  by fiery locusts of hades,

she leaned on broken tripods of bad luck for blind  strangers,

she cocoons in fear and brokenness

She is the despicable taskmaster at the valley of the shadows of death,

She faintly fizzles like an expired syrup at the lingering of the high spirited sparks of the redemptive dawn,

I met nightfall,

I bent her crusty wings and my eyelids rose tall,

I play golf listening to sonorous pitches of ancient birds,roaring lions and cackling ducks at the valley of the shadows of death.