Under the ecstatic night sky
When stars twinkle on the flickering lamps,
Casting shadows on the moon-lit alley;
A run-down alley, where hums sound sweet,
On it’s cobbled path, I trudge on.

The stones are smooth, from feet that have measured the lane,
More during noon, than now.
The moon is at it’s full, its gleams break through my mane
Its craters, through my mind.

The clock strikes twelve; it’s midnight,
The Big Ben chimes, a ding-dong; it’s time.
I feel an array of emotions, as they surge through,
A medley of thoughts churn up and ooze out.

I see two kids placing white pebbles
Tracing their way,
Landing in gingerbread houses;

I watch golden tresses being thrown down
From towers, sky high.
Those being climbed up, love blossoming;

I gaze at dazzling gowns,
Glass slippers being left behind
As curfews were set for midnight.

I glance at wooden puppets
Being brought to life
And angels at work;

I peer into shoe shops
Elves stitching boots
Awaiting a fortune;

I witness magic lamps on flying carpets
A ‘whole new world’ anticipated
Genies out in the open;

I stroll on, as fairy tales continue
To cast a spell on my vision;
Oh, but Vision is superhuman
As midnight is when Iron Man toils.

And the clock strikes twelve.
With a thump from Hulk;
As Thor fights Loki, the moon as backdrop,
Captain achieves victory over Thanos, the obscure night is the prop;

And webs cast in my fancy
I recede my steps
To another story, another fantasy.
Midnight is more than just the  Moon and darkness.