3 A.M.

​When the world is quiet 

And almost everyone is sleeping 

Brightened by pale moonlight 

And few bright streetlights.
Stars peeking through the dark

Trees shivering from cold

Clouds covering the blue sky

Uttering spells of the mysterious vold
When the demons are brave

And the Devil is strong

The dead is out of grave

Everything right turns wrong
The Sinners crawl in streets

And the lunatics roam the road

The dreamers still up on their feet

Working on their weird plans.
3 A.M. ,”The Devil’s Hour” , it’s said

But it brings life to my words

It gives momentum to my pen.

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