The Nocturnal Drive

The smooth dark silk splits,
Highlighted by stars on silver straws,
Casting a haunting glow down upon the worn gravel,
As insatiable shadows grovel past.
The sky above is painted with ornamented denim,
The moon, an ivory button,
Polished but forgotten on its dusty shelf.
The music of ages passes through the muggy air,
The muffled thrum of cycling onyx rings,
And the feeling of emptiness,
Gliding like a nocturnal demoness,
My eyes, cold and translucent, stare ahead and watch the world blur.
I could spend an eternity in this softened throne,
Enjoying the simplicity of the sweet darkness,
Of a long drive at night.