The after hours

As I sit in the corner of the room ... With the lights, dancing on the wall around the lone fire, burning away slowly ... As if it's a long tradition passed down ... Music could be felt through the patterns ... Vibrating through the veins ... The atmosphere slowed down, peace crept in slowly, wrapping it's hand around you ... Hugging so slightly that you felt it but know it isn't there ... The night continued on ... Treading quietly, scared to wake anyone up and to those who are up ... Silence was there to accompany you ... Alone in the room in the middle of the night ... I don't have the words to really say or convey what I'm feeling ... And the comfort I get is from a tiny rectangle that shines and shows the infinite worlds that could happen ... Through the music and beat or the colors and pictures, they all paint and tell a story differently from both the reader and the writers point of view ... I guess whatever suits you ...