A fitting composition through the night

shifting from flipping of pages to

light snoring, accompanied by

night crawlers who

work during the night, so others

can go about their day.

I sit here, sipping a cup of

coffee in the wee hours.

Made in silence except for

humming of machines,

overnight employees respect

unspoken rules of the night.

“Sorry”, they whispered,

as booming vacuums wake up

town citizens of the library,

who nodded off instead of accomplishing

great things.

Utilizing bolts of inspiration from

dreaminess between wake

and sleep,

I turned up some Coldplay.

Perhaps, music of the

sublime

can drive away magnetism of

silence.

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