at midnight’s crescent

in daylight’s darkness

rest unanswered questions

like firefly flash

bedroom eyed confessions

the cool blue air

at midnight’s crescent

the mind disappears

in faith I am present

Hyde in Jekyll’s clothing.

Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde

unleashed by use of potion

as swift as light

as evenings cloak

a wrecking ball in motion

of skin and flesh

a heart so dark

devoid of all emotion

it’s midnights grip

from which I hide

and seek to cure

this strange compulsion

like many men

before my time

who tried to rid the notion

of good and evil

within one mind

a harlequin commotion

where in the end

come banging fists

as silent screams approach him

to slay the monster

from within

the cure his own expulsion

and in plain clothes

lay to rest

Hyde in Jekyll’s clothing.