Book of Night

I am of that group of souls who sit forever apart. We are outcast, unfit; the lonely and the lost. We are the ugly, the strange, the introspective. We love darkness, for the darkness is a great equaliser. To lover Her one must be alone, with Her. She comes to all who cry out within whirling starlight, drunk with the gaseous vapour of nebulae. Inhaling the vigour of eternity, exhaling the laughter of mad intoxication. The benison of night is open to all.