As Midnight Approaches

The sky is aglow,
Sinister-red,
Overcast with ashen clouds.
Molten street lights flicker,
Fluttering of a bat's wings,
Invisible shadows lurking at every corner,
Chills from an unsentimental night.

A solitary figure runs.

Seeking who he is,
Who he can be,
And who he will be.

Pondering his very existence,
And running in circles,
He reaches his end point
- His starting point.

Weary and no closer,
To what he thinks he seeks.

Deep down,
He already knew.
He just didn't have the courage,
To leap rather than walk,
To proclaim rather than speak,
To listen rather than hear,
To feel rather than suppress,
To ruminate rather than idle,
To act rather than hesitate,
To love rather than regret.

All his life,
He pretended,
To be strong,
To be nonchalant.
To be or not to be?

Courage is about facing your fears,
Conquering them,
Comprehending them.
For it is human to fear the unknown.
It is also human to love the unknown.

On such a night,
He ran an arduous avenue,
Besieged by untold memories,
Hazy images,
Neglected feelings.

The passing of midnight came swiftly and silently,
Ghosting past,
Fading like a spectre in the dark.

On such a night,
Filled with meditations,
Armed with words,
He wrote.

He seeks not the end point,
But the journey.
For it is through the process,
Where he felt anguish, despair and fatigue,
That he truly lived.
It makes the end point feels like deliverance and salvation,
Rather than a requiem.