Day vs. Night

by Siarra Turner

The illumination of their peach colored skin warms me like the sun, brightening the day. Numerous faces of the creamy tone surround me and I feel sheltered. Their sweet words astound me, giving me beauty and knowledge; slowly I take it all in. I watch in awe as they bestow affection generously and lovingly, creating a radiance unknown to me. Basking in the warmth of the summer sky, I enjoy my time with the people of the day. Blessed to be near such splendor, I vow to stay, never to stray. Yet lurking within the suave designs of their lexis, hidden under all angelic smiles is a wall of ignorance that enthralls a fervent heat in my heart. Irritation sears intravenously through me as petty assumptions sever promised trust. Annoyance boils inside me as smiles turn to cold words and cruel faces. Wonder glistens over my eyes as they dare not touch me, fearing my ebony skin would burn their own. Silently, I cry, trying to comprehend why I'm different, why I'm unwanted. Yet no answer is known, so I continue to return to them, confusion flooding my brain. Clouds form gradually over their sun, as their ignorance rages into the evening. I stay until the oppressive pressures of their unconscious inability drives me away...

Night slowly settles in on the crisp of the day and unknowingly, I revel in it's glory. As I rejoice in the magnificence of the dusk air, I find my home with the people of the dark. My ebony skin blends in and is accepted, not questioned as my mind assumed. Though unsweetened, their language is familiar and ironically, it calms me like thick, rich cocoa. I find the raw intensity of their deep-rooted tones to be a bittersweet combination of passion and pain that shook my bones. Strong bonds are made through a tie no other ethnicity can fathom, and in turn, a warm embrace of everlasting security is granted upon me; a feeling that cannot be denied or destroyed. I slowly realized the common link between myself and these people and begin to count myself among them, promising never to leave. But concealed under the thick soil of symbolic words and empathy, buried deep within their understanding, is blazing hatred unlike any ever seen. The jealously emitted from their souls sends terror up my spine as they yearn for what is not provided, but worked for. The rage felt from their tempered chests scorches me as I find that betrayal burns worse. The darkness of our world fades, as I watch us slowly die, one after the other. To see one of our own banish another frightens me, threatening to kill me. In an attempt to save my only life, I draw away from my people, running into the coolness of the dawn.

Uncertainty perplexes my mind as I wander about the early morning sky, and closing my eyes, I struggle to walk into a new day. Images fill my thoughts remembering the lack of will the day held to its core, the shear obstinate power to only accept what is known. And although the glow of their sun overflowed with a conviviality needed above anything, the pure heat of it sent rancorous chills through me. So the image fades, bringing in the dark, damp air of the night. Yet my mind would not venture into it either, fearing the very existence of that much abhorrence would kill the race off forever. And though deep down, I knew my true home was with them, dancing in the soft rain of the dusk, I feared the storm that would surely follow. Feeling the sun begin to rise from its caves of protection, my mind becomes tempted to relax in the warm breeze. But feeling a soft breath of the dark air tempted my skin to run in its never-ending beauty. Each with its own advantages, I agree to try to balance the gift of both worlds, closing my eyes to the hardships but accepting them reluctantly. For my eyes would not bathe in the sun's holy light, nor would they exult in the moon's fresh night, but smile in the illuminated darkness of the night vs. the day.

Day vs. Night by Siarra Turner

© Copyright 2002. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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