Long Nights


Oh, there’s a long night up ahead, announces

The conductor as the train watches the

Last glimpse of light from the city

Dissipate behind our wake.

You know what I mean,

It’s one of those long nights in the darkness;

The kind of night that

Remembers every word you write, and

Every mistake and regret you had.

It remembers and it shouts it louder than

Your ears can take before bursting apart.

The train reminded me of the city,

But it felt eerie and mysteriously different.

Less outside noise, more inner contemplation.

I was writing a few thoughts down when

We hit a bump in the tracks.

The hanging lights shuddered and quaked,

On and off, on and off they flickered,

Startling the sleeping customers and

Amusing the man playing scales on a light

Acoustic guitar that never seemed to go out of tune.

We drove through the night without a thought

Of the darkness enveloping the steel of the train,

Still bounding through the desert,

The forest, the mountains, and the dusky, dead villages.

I remembered what it was like when home existed,

But tonight the train was my home, and tomorrow

The same train, headed somewhere else.

It’s going to be a long night, but the

Guitar and this pen will save me from my misery,

And the regrets consuming around us.




Madness isn’t madness while you’re aware of it;

It’s the truth, justice, righteousness, you see;

Madness is a label for those who know;

It’s an insult, judgment, madness, you see;

I know what Madness is, I know it true and true;

It’s an insight, perception, enlightenment, you see;

Madness shuns you, and you cannot have it;

It’s better, greater, smarter, you see;

Madness cannot be described, not even by me;

It’s impossible, unfathomable, everything, you see;

I know that madness shines darker than the sun;

It’s bright, fulfilling, divine, you see;

And so madness…madness is simply madness to me.