At Midnight

It was but at midnight,
and to say a grief it wrought;
when dogs and foxes howled alike
on a dusty, moonlit road.

It was but at midnight,
when all laughter and voices died;
for each in their slumber lay,
sheltered and warm of the night.

It was but at midnight,
when silence sought refuge;
in hearts of cold and stone,
that roamed the dusty road.

It was but at midnight,
when death's naked shadow,
knocked at the doors
of dead and empty souls.

It was but at midnight....