As I awoke this morning, an harmony of voices, the plucking of strings; my dreams were music. and I heard them singing:
What is the
nighttime
no longer
waiting for?
me.
It was beautiful and powerful: I do not know what it means.
I present the short verse with each new line corresponding to what appeared the beat of the song, a particular note being strummed on the syllables “What” “Night” “No” “Wait” and “Me.”
Tale Told 