Lady of the Night

Lady of the Night

Beneath the glow of fractured lamps,

She walked the city’s sleepless veins,

Through bitter cold and dripping damp,

Past shuttered shops and midnight trains.

The darkness knew her steady tread,

Her face half-lost in silver rain,

While drunken voices turned their heads

To watch her pass the neon stain.

She knew the girls who sold their time,

The tired boys who dealt for cash,

The alleyways of smoke and grime,

The broken bottles’ sudden crash.

She walked where decent folk stayed clear,

Where shadows traded more than gold,

Where every doorway carried fear

And every handshake felt half-sold.

The taxi drivers knew her shape,

The bouncers gave a subtle nod,

While somewhere in a fire escape

A junkie whispered prayers to God.

She wore the night like second skin,

Calm eyes that measured every face,

While danger breathed its poison in

Through every dark and narrow place.

Some called her “Lady” with a grin,

Some cursed her name beneath their breath,

For where the lost and wicked spin,

She walked a lonely dance with death.

And when the morning cracked the sky,

The truth stood plain beneath the light—

Not some street queen men wandered by,

she is a police officer working nights.

This is for my and Calvin of London‘s monthly challenge May 2026please join in if you want too. Subject for May is Lady Of The Night.

#ladyofthenight #poeticstory #Marie381UkWriter