The Whispers of a Forgotten Night by Seungwoo Lee

The street looks different, when you are walking with only the pearl-like moon

on your side; the moonlight paints the lonely space with a special hue.

It’s purple. It’s blue. It’s orange.

It’s a color that commands a special name, living outside the palette,

content in its own dimension.

As you walk, the sighing trees welcome your little footsteps. They shake their arms,

excited like a child reuniting with his mother, and send echoes

through the forgotten night.

You want to scream, explode your lungs out, and fill the void

with your mighty roar, but you are too small,

compared to the sheer vastness of

the night sky.

Next to the houses, the streetlights shed light on the road

with no passers-bys. They just stand there - determined - and wait, like a

lover on a lonely night. Across the street, the colors are colder

than the wildest winter breeze. The traffic light quietly protects the empty streets,

brave like guardians and soldiers; it waits - and

waits - only for the howling wind to pass by ’n

leave no traces below its feet.

You are alone in this world.

The buildings are dark. Everybody is entranced in a spell of slumber;

It’s just you & the whispers of the forgotten night.

Everything - the winds, the colors, the silence - conspire

to keep you engaged in an intense

tango with the darkness.

You take one step. The darkness responds with two.

Step Step Step.

Near the road, you find a secluded bench basking in a ray of light.

You sit down, quietly, with no one on your side;

here, the colors are warm.

They snatch you away from the noise &

take you to a new home.

It’s just you & the whispers of the forgotten night.