the night walked in its tunica <br />dark black funereal staid <br />like an exiled king by sorrow spent <br /> <br />the night walked in its tunica <br />over Hastings Gardens: <br />still the trees without a rustle stood. <br /> <br />The night in its tunica walked <br />They saw it on the bastions at mid-night <br />Tiptoeing helter-skelter directionless <br />And sneaking thief-like. At Dawn <br />They found its suicide, poor thing.<br /><br />Emmanuel George Cefai<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-night-walked-in-its-tunica/
