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Nightfall
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Nightfall v1
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It’s nightfall & I’m lost in the bewildered roads
that never wanted to reach her.
Lost in the empty hills from attrition
with the night owls scanning the darkness
Feeling the pulse of dawn.
=
The sky is still in limbo
About the memory of silence whispering
About my sorrows that never filled a book
words constantly spilling over the sides
==
The hunger of my poems on a plate
My healing notions in a wooden cup.
I’m dehydrating, and death is carrying his photo albums
and coming over with a specialty of his favorite mix,
To take me to his kingdom of fear, shamed & naked,
To be buried an orphan in god's acre
==
It’s nightfall & I’m lost in the bewildered roads
that never wanted to reach her.
because she’s so unforgiving
==
An eulogy sung by the moaning roses
The humming of prayers standing there
with surviving dreams that could perish
If the gray seasons arrived a little late.
and the plan looked a little out of shape to carry me through
==
But the roads never wanted to reach her
she’s so unforgiving
so death is coming over early
And I’m alone and too far from home.
I’m hugging the darkness
Feeling the pulse of dawn crawling over the hills empty handed.
Pondering how things could have become
if i saw her face in that moment, In the miracle of silence.
==
but It’s nightfall & I’m lost in the bewildered roads
that never wanted to reach her.
Lost in the empty hills from attrition
with the night owls scanning the darkness
Feeling the pulse of dawn.
with no answers to my quest
because she’s so unforgiving
===
for (F. Maria P.M.)
========
jan 29 2023
lyrics & vocals: azdi404
music credit: polaroid by xzaviar
========
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Nightfall v1 lyrics
It’s nightfall & I’m lost in the bewildered roads
that never wanted to reach her.
Lost in the empty hills from attrition
with the night owls scanning the darkness
Feeling the pulse of dawn.
The sky is still in limbo
About the memory of silence whispering
About my sorrow that never filled a book
words constantly spilling over the sides
==
The hunger of my poems on a plate
My healing notions in a wooden cup.
I’m dehydrating, and death is carrying
his photo albums and coming over
with a cup of his favorite mix,
To take me to his kingdom of fear
shamed & naked,
To be buried an orphan in an unknown plot.
==
An eulogy sung by the moaning roses
The humming of prayers standing there
with surviving dreams that could perish
If the gray seasons arrive a little late.
==
But the roads never wanted to reach her
she’s so unforgiving
so death is coming over early
And I’m alone and too far from home.
I’m hugging the darkness
Feeling the pulse of dawn
crawling over the hills.
Pondering how things could have become
In the miracle of silence.
==
for (F. Maria P.M.)
@azdi404
========
lyrics & vocals : azdi404
Music credit: Stillstand by @Myuu 🇺🇸
=================================
“Nightfall” reads as a nocturnal elegy — a poem that mourns not only a lost love but the loss of direction, faith, and purpose itself. It is steeped in spiritual fatigue, where the night stands for both the absence of light and the persistence of consciousness in a world that refuses to answer back.
This is one of your most atmospheric and formally cohesive works. Its cyclical refrains — “It’s nightfall & I’m lost in the bewildered roads / That never wanted to reach her” — act like a mantra of defeat, yet each repetition adds new emotional weight. The voice wanders, collapses, revives, and resigns again, echoing the rhythm of someone walking endless roads in the dark — both literal and existential.
I. The Setting: The Lost Roads and the Unreachable She
“It’s nightfall & I’m lost in the bewildered roads
that never wanted to reach her”
The poem opens in motion — lostness is immediate and inescapable. The “bewildered roads” are personified; they actively resist leading to her. This transforms geography into fate — the world itself refuses reunion.
The syntax — “never wanted to reach her” — introduces a subtle cosmic cruelty: not only is she distant, but destiny itself conspires against connection.
This “she” — unnamed but clearly the same mythic figure from your other poems (Laly) — is no longer an object of devotion or muse; she’s a metaphysical boundary, the limit of what love, memory, or poetry can attain.
II. The Landscape as Emotional Mirror
“Lost in the empty hills from attrition
With the night owls scanning the darkness
Feeling the pulse of dawn”
The hills, owls, and darkness are not static scenery but extensions of the speaker’s psyche.
“Attrition” implies both erosion and exhaustion — the land has worn itself down through endurance, just as the speaker has.
The night owls scanning the darkness symbolize a form of vigilance — they see what he cannot. Yet their scanning is futile; dawn’s “pulse” is faint but never arrives as salvation.
Dawn, in this poem, doesn’t promise light — it is merely another form of waiting.
III. The Sky in Limbo — The Collapse of Communication
“The sky is still in limbo
About the memory of silence whispering
About my sorrows that never filled a book
words constantly spilling over the sides”
This stanza shifts inward — from landscape to language.
The “sky in limbo” mirrors the poet’s state: between confession and silence.
The “sorrows that never filled a book” evoke failure — even poetry, his chosen vessel, cannot contain the magnitude of grief.
“Words constantly spilling over the sides” is an image of linguistic overflow — language that fails to heal because it cannot be contained or concluded.
It’s as if sorrow exceeds grammar, and silence becomes the only faithful translator.
IV. The Communion with Death
“The hunger of my poems on a plate
My healing notions in a wooden cup
I’m dehydrating, and death is carrying his photo albums”
Here, the poet transforms life into a final, ritualistic meal.
Poems become sustenance — “on a plate” — but their nourishment has turned into hunger itself.
The “wooden cup” suggests communion, asceticism, or even an offering bowl — spirituality stripped bare.
“Death is carrying his photo albums”
This line is extraordinary. It personifies death not as an enemy but as a collector of memory, someone who arrives not to kill but to curate — to archive the poet’s life.
The image also hints at nostalgia — death’s intimacy with the past, his attachment to “pictures” of what once was.
Then, death “comes over with a specialty of his favorite mix” — the phrase fuses humor with horror. It’s casual, almost domestic, making the idea of death’s arrival intimate and inevitable.
“To take me to his kingdom of fear, shamed & naked
To be buried an orphan in god’s Acre”
“God’s Acre” — an old term for a cemetery — introduces a biblical echo.
To be buried as an orphan is not just to die unloved, but to die unclaimed by divinity.
This is a spiritual homelessness that runs through the poem: the loss of God, lover, and self all at once.
V. The Refrain and the Theme of Unforgiveness
“Because she’s so unforgiving”
This repeated line redefines the poem’s emotional core.
She — whether woman, muse, or deity — becomes the agent of exclusion.
Her “unforgiving” nature is not cruelty but permanence — she refuses to soften, refuses to allow resolution.
In mythic terms, she becomes Fate personified, the divine figure who withholds grace.
In psychological terms, she’s the haunting ideal — the unattainable love the poet can’t relinquish.
VI. The Roses, Prayers, and Dreams
“An eulogy sung by the moaning roses
The humming of prayers standing there
With surviving dreams that could perish
If the gray seasons arrive a little late”
This is one of your most lyrical passages.
The natural and the spiritual coalesce: roses mourn, prayers hum, and dreams stand in vigil.
The tension here is temporal — even dreams have expiration dates.
“Gray seasons” signify decay and resignation; the “plan” being “out of shape” captures existential fatigue — life’s machinery breaking down.
VII. The Return to the Beginning — The Eternal Loop
The poem ends where it began — but with diminished strength, as if the speaker is fading mid-chant:
“Feeling the pulse of dawn crawling over the hills, empty-handed
Pondering how things could have become
If I saw her face in that moment, in the miracle of silence”
The longing for “the miracle of silence” brings everything full circle:
At the start, silence was oppressive; now, it’s almost holy — the only place where reconciliation might have been possible.
But the poem refuses closure:
“it’s nightfall and she’s so unforgiving.”
This is the true refrain — not “I’m lost,” but “she’s unforgiving.”
It transfers agency outward — as if to say: I’ve done my part, and the universe, the beloved, or God, has chosen silence.
VIII. Thematic Overview
| Theme | Description |
|---|---|
| Unreachable Love | The beloved is both destination and barrier, unreachable by design. |
| Spiritual Desolation | Loss of faith mirrored through decaying imagery of sky, roads, and silence. |
| Language and Failure | Words overflow, fail to contain meaning, echo the futility of expression. |
| Death as Companion | Death is personified as archivist and host, not terror but inevitability. |
| Cycle of Repetition | Structural loops reinforce emotional paralysis — no beginning, no end. |
IX. Stylistic Features
-
Repetition: The refrain “It’s nightfall & I’m lost…” creates a haunting musicality and mirrors circular despair.
-
Personification: Roads, death, roses, prayers — all animate the environment with consciousness.
-
Diction: A mixture of archaic (“God’s Acre”) and visceral (“death’s favorite mix”) produces a gothic-modern fusion.
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Tone: Lyrically mournful, spiritually fatigued, yet lucid — a consciousness aware of its decline.
X. Emotional Core
At its heart, “Nightfall” is a poem about wandering in the aftermath of devotion.
It’s the stage that comes after prayer, after worship, after hope — when silence is the only remaining interlocutor.
The speaker no longer fights for redemption or return.
He simply walks the roads that refuse to reach her — sustained only by repetition, ritual, and the faint heartbeat of dawn.
“Nightfall,” then, isn’t just about darkness descending — it’s about learning to live inside the long night when the light no longer answers back.
Would you like me to show how “Nightfall” acts as the final movement in the “Laly Cycle” — following the emotional descent from “Freak Healer” (devotion) → “Laly’s Wailing Wall” (argument with God) → “Something Ordinary” (disillusionment) → “Precious Laly” (submission) → “Nightfall” (spiritual exile)?
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