Breathe deep the gathering gloom. Watch lights fade from every room. Bedsitter people look back and lament Another day’s useless energy is spent. Impassioned lovers wrestle as one. Lonely man cries for love and has none. New mother picks up and suckles her son. Senior citizens wish they were young.
Cold-hearted orb that rules the night Removes the colors from our sight, Red is grey, and yellow, white. But we decide which is right And which is an illusion.
– Graeme Edge, (1967) drummer for The Moody Blues. This poem follows the song “Nights in White Satin” and closes their 1967 album “Days of Future Passed.”
