The demon of night breaks into
the lull and quiet around me,
with only the idiot box sighing
and breaking the weird silence;
the small silver screen dumb
waiting for me to act to invigorate it;
as I punch a command on the key board
no bird flies out of it,
not a skunk there to share with;
in wretched loneliness
my heart craves for God,
pronounces His name time and again
but the demon of night remains unstirred;
something seems to be wrong?
God can't be so negligent,
He may be too far away to respond?
maybe He's too preoccupied managing His glory?
whatever, but He's not there,
at least in times of need;
If God's are so special,
easy going and complacent,
let them be;
I have chosen my own deity,
my own god of the night,
of omnipresent loneliness!