Light in the Dark

When sleep eludes me, shadows creep,

the night thickens like fog, pressing close.

Yet a flicker spills warmth, a child’s vigil keeps,

a neighbor’s nightlight, its gentle glow—a rose.

Each creak of the floorboards is a heartbeat's sigh,

the darkness twists, heavy with weight.

But in that soft halo, I find a reply,

just a moment’s reprieve from the long hours of late.