Those Nocturnal Ones

Those nocturnal ones

Of dark chambers

And the dazzling world of sleaze

Of unimaginable comfort

Ease and plenty,

Where the sun never shines

But it matters little,

For there are neon lights

That never fade

Lighting the lives

Of those nocturnal ones.

And these creatures of the dark

Emerge not at sunrise

But after the sun has set

And the moon has come out

In the night sky above,

Illumining their way

Through the forest of desire

Into the cave of sensual pleasures

With the promise of worldly treasures

And honours bestowed

For delighting starved souls

Dwelling in the cold desert of ignorance

And selfish desire.

These nocturnal ones

Called by numberless names

Disrespectful and dirty,

Yearn for that which eludes them most

The garb of respectability

That they may don with a flourish

And which they shall always cherish.

And they care not

About the happenings

In the dark caves of sensual pleasures

Far away from human gaze

Where they are used, misused and abused,

Evan as they never fail

To kindle pleasures

And satiate base desires

Of their lords and masters

Those depraved souls

Dwelling in the cold desert of ignorance

And selfish desire.

And the tragedy of it all

Is the secrecy

To which they are confined

In their dark, sunless world,

While those depraved souls

Their appetites whetted and satiated

Emerge into the clearing

Under the Sun

That those nocturnals long to see

But are denied,

For sadly

And quite unjustly,

There lies drawn

That fine line of demarcation

That keeps apart

The two worlds

Of the user and the used.