afraid of the dark

If my mind is as spacious as the sky of pink, orange, gold, teal, and purple, blue, and so onwardly as the spectrum of light allows, a form-less continuum with scattered thought clouds big clouds, rain clouds, clouds lined in clarity, passing by, then my greatest fear is the night overwhelmingly covered by the stars, a lonely shiver in the reflection of Diana, whose inscutable hunt in the oak echoes nothing, no one, but her own footsteps.