Great play on words with Night. One minor tweak for the rhyme (maybe just light). You ended the poem at the right place, while I like the extra stanza on its own. This line, "Then He switched off her eyes' sparkle" is a fantastic close.
Here's my next move.
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Thunder of Hooves
Nf6
War is also wasted
on the youth.
That is its point.
Battle begins as
a horn of glory,
a crash of waves,
a distant thunder with
the dry anticipation
of lightning.
They march to it;
sing songs of it, like children.
They cannot conceive
of what follows--
of the dreadful quiet,
of the field of flies.
It is much like love.
Here's my next move.
____
Thunder of Hooves
Nf6
War is also wasted
on the youth.
That is its point.
Battle begins as
a horn of glory,
a crash of waves,
a distant thunder with
the dry anticipation
of lightning.
They march to it;
sing songs of it, like children.
They cannot conceive
of what follows--
of the dreadful quiet,
of the field of flies.
It is much like love.
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson